#BUT the rest of the memory is fine so I doubt it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkshort · 7 months

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i know who you are | 2. the journal

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Your memories still remain out of reach, so you ask Joel to tell you a bit about yourself, and with the help of a journal you kept, you begin to learn more about the person you became in the past ten years, leaving you with more questions than answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, eating, alcohol use, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia

WC: 6.3K

Series Masterlist

"Did'ya get any sleep?"

You glanced up at Joel as you walked side by side towards the dining hall.

"No," you admitted, looking straight ahead again.

After Joel left you in his - your - bedroom, instructing you to rest on his way out, you found you could do anything but. Your mind was spinning with all of the information you had just learned, and you weren't sure which topic consumed you more: the end of the world or the supposed love of your life.

The longer his words set in, the more you were finding it difficult to look at him. It was such a strange feeling, having this large, burly, gruff man proclaim his love for you, to say he would stop at nothing to make you feel the same way, to insist you were meant for each other. It seemed so out of character, though you hardly felt like you knew him. But even now as you walked down the street, you noticed how some of the people in town glanced at him. Moving quickly out of his way.

It wasn't just you who found him intimidating.

You were distracted as you walked, curiously peering into storefronts and repurposed buildings when a group of children playing a game of tag nearly ran into you. At the last moment, Joel tugged your arm, pulling you into his side just in time. The children seemed to realize their mistake because their laughter quickly stopped and the smiles fell from their faces as they looked up at him.

"We're sorry, Mr. Miller," a young boy no more than eight years old said.

Miller. You never even bothered to ask his last name.

Joel just grunted and they scurried away, no doubt eager to escape his glare. You chanced a look at him, studying his stern expression when you realized he was still holding you against him. He was warm. Warmer than you expected. And solid. You cleared your throat and stepped away from his grasp, muttering your thanks and glancing around the busy street to avoid the disappointed look in his eye when it became clear you weren't comfortable with him touching you.

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans and continued to walk in silence down the main road. A few people shot you curious looks or did double takes as they walked by, and you had to assume if Ellie heard the news about your accident, then others had, as well.

The Tipsy Bison came into view at the corner of the street, made obvious by the large crowds of people gathered outside.

"Does everyone have to eat here or are you allowed to have food in your homes?" you asked him, and he looked down at you, surprised by the question.

"We got food. It's not like a prison or somethin'," he said with a chuckle. "Most folks like to come here to socialize, but sometimes we cook dinner at home," he stopped short when he realized he never asked you what you preferred. "Did'ya wanna stay home instead?"

"No, this is fine," you told him over your shoulder.

"You sure? Maybe it's too much right now," he replied, jogging a bit to keep up.

"I'm sure. You won't leave me, right?" you asked, looking at him nervously.

"'Course not," he said, trying to hide his grin. He liked that you wanted him around, even if it was only because you didn't know anybody else. It was a start.

When Joel swung the door open, holding it wide so you could enter first, it might have been your imagination but you thought the loud chatter simultaneously died down for a split second. Then Joel stepped in beside you and the volume rose once again.

You wanted to look around and take in the rustic atmosphere but you could feel the eyes on you as Joel led you through the crowd, the scrutiny making you feel extremely out of place, so you kept your gaze pinned straight ahead. Following dutifully behind, you watched as people automatically moved out of his way, like he was Moses parting the Red Sea, until he reached a table in a somewhat quiet corner of the dining hall. He pulled out a chair and stood behind it, his hand still resting on the back, and it took you a second to realize he was waiting for you to sit so he could push it in. You quietly thanked him then finally looked around the room.

The dining room had tables scattered around, and as far as you could see, they all appeared to be taken. People were standing in groups, drinking and laughing and eating and you wondered how in the world your table wasn't taken. You were about to turn and ask when an older man approached your table.

"Hey guys," he said, pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket. "What'll it be?"

You went wide eyed for a moment, looking around trying to figure out what your choices were when, much to your relief, Joel spoke for you both.

"Still got any of that stew left?"

"Sure do. Few guys got lucky earlier today, too. Got two deer, so we'll be havin' more soon," he replied, jotting something down on his paper. "Two whiskies?"

Joel was about to nod when you spoke up for the first time.

"Just water for me, thanks," you said, and the man nodded his head.

"Thanks, Seth," Joel said as he walked away.

You glanced at Joel quickly, awkwardly catching his eye. It felt too much like a date. Dropping your gaze to the table, you tried to think of something to say.

"Probably a good idea, skippin' alcohol," he said. "Didn't even think about it, what with your head and all."

"Yeah," you said, your hand coming up to gently touch the stitches. "Besides, I don't like whiskey, anyway," you added. Joel laughed softly as he watched you shift nervously in your chair.

"What?" you asked with a frown.

"Nothin'," he replied, still staring at you in disbelief. "Just ever since you got here you've been tossin' back whiskey better than most of the men. You must've gotten a taste for it at some point."

"There's no way," you said, scrunching your nose when Seth put down Joel's glass in front of him. He stared down at it wistfully, swirling the amber liquid in the glass, lost in thought.

"Whiskey's how we first met," he said softly, still staring at the glass. You tilted your head towards him, waiting for him to continue. "When you first arrived, you were like a caged animal. You came here lookin' to blow off steam," he said with a distant smile. "It was a slow night. Just you and me and a handful of others. You were tossin' that shit back like it was nothin'."

You watched him as he reminisced. His eyes shone brightly and a small smile played on his lips, it almost felt like you were intruding on something special.

"When me and Ellie first arrived, no one really went outta their way to talk to me. I preferred it that way. Was used to bein' on my own," he continued, looking up at you now. "But that night, you sat down next to me at the bar like you had been waitin' for me or somethin'. You asked me if I was drinkin' for fun or drinkin' to forget. Those were the very first words you said to me."

You were completely silent as he spoke. The way he told it, it felt like you could see the scene playing out right before you, the way he remembered every detail left you in awe.

"What did you say?" you asked a little breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked down at the table.

"Drinkin' to forget."

You waited for him to elaborate, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to, you asked him another question.

"Then what happened?"

He raised his eyebrows and hummed, a slow smile stretching across his face before he answered.

"You told me you could help me have fun and help me forget," he said, and you could feel the heat instantly flush your cheeks.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, covering your mouth, utterly mortified. "Please tell me you're joking."

He shook his head, still smiling at the memory. You glanced around the room, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"So then, did we...?" you trailed off, gaze still fixed on a spot on the wall.

"Oh, yeah. 'Course we did. I'm no saint," he chuckled.

"Jesus Christ," you said, burying your face in your hands. "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"It's not. Well, not anymore. You had an edge to you when you first arrived. Most do. Survivin' out there does that to you," he said, taking his first sip of whiskey.

You sat in silence for another minute, contemplating asking him what he knew about your life before you met him, but ultimately deciding against it. Maybe another time.

"Where's the bathroom?" you asked him, and he pointed down a small hallway near the bar. You thanked him, his eyes trailing after you as you made your way through the crowds, only dropping his gaze once you were no longer in view. It was a strange thing, recounting stories for you like that. At first, the memories made him smile, but once he saw the lost look on your face he felt the sadness creep back up, settling deep in his chest, and he wondered if he would ever get you back.

You knew you were in the bathroom too long. You knew he would likely be worried, but you just couldn't stop staring at your reflection in the mirror after you washed your hands. Who was this person staring back at you? She looked older and weathered and tired. Your fingertip gently prodded at the bags under your eyes and then a small scar on your chin. What happened to you out there to make you the person Joel was describing? What did you have to do to survive? And did you really want to know the answer?

The door swung open, startling you as three girls around your age entered the bathroom. Their giggles stopped when they saw you and you watched them exchange glances in the mirror before a pretty girl with long, blonde hair greeted you by name. Turning around, you gave her a smile, hoping they would go about their business so you could slip out of there, but of course the pretty girl wanted to talk.

"We heard you had an accident, are you okay?" she asked, and she sounded sincere, but something about her smile made you think twice.

"Yeah, got a few stitches but it should be fine," you said, your eyes flicking to the other two girls, giving them each a smile. They looked at each other and smirked before heading towards the bathroom stalls, leaving you with just the blonde.

"So, is it true? Did you really lose your memory?" she asked, her voice low as if it were a secret, and finally you were able to pick up the vibe. You had been to high school before the outbreak. You had encounters with these types of girls before. Friendly to your face, vicious behind your back.

"Uh, yeah," you admitted, and she gasped as if she felt bad, but you saw the way her eyes lit up.

"So you don't remember, like, anything?"

"Well, I remember before everything went to hell," you told her, "but I don't remember this place, no."

"Oh, wow," she said, and you heard the toilets flush before the other two girls exited the stalls, grinning conspiratorially at the blonde. "So you don't know anybody here?"

You shook your head, feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning at this point. What was she really getting at?

"That must mean you don't remember Joel, right?" one of the girls at the sink piped up. You looked at her briefly over your shoulder and shook your head, turning back to the blonde but not before you caught the look in her eye.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said, giving you a pout. "Does that mean you aren't together anymore, or-"

Suddenly, the door swung open and Ellie stormed in. Her hard gaze drifted around to the three girls and she gave them a look of disgust.

"Scram, vultures," she told them, and the blonde made a face at her before flipping her hair over her shoulder and heading to one of the stalls. Ellie called your name and you scurried over, allowing her to lead you back out into the dining room but not before she gave the other two girls a few choice words.

"Don't talk to them, they're nasty," she told you as you weaved your way through the crowd. Joel's eyes instantly found you once you were in view and you saw him straighten up in his chair.

"You okay?" he asked, and you could see the genuine concern in his face as you sat down. You were about to answer when Ellie plopped down on the other side of him and spoke first.

"Angie and her little sidekicks cornered her in there," she explained, rolling her eyes. "Already sniffing around for scraps."

"What do you mean?" you asked her, but just then Seth arrived with your meals and you never got an answer.

"Stew again?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her nose.

"It's good," Joel told her before taking a bite. You looked down at the bowl and you were inclined to agree with Ellie, but you swallowed the food down anyway, just grateful for something to eat after such a long day.

"Aren't you going to eat?" you asked her, noticing she hadn't ordered anything and instead was busy sketching in a journal.

"Nah, I'm going to Dina's later, I'll eat there," she explained without looking up.

"Who's Dina?"

"Oh, my girlfriend," Ellie explained, glancing up at you briefly. "Sorry. I still can't get used to this. It's so weird you don't remember."

"Don't be out too late. You got school tomorrow," Joel reminded her. Even though he wasn't Ellie's father, he seemed to have quite the knack for being a dad.

"Yes, sir," she said sarcastically, giving him a weak, two-fingered salute before hunching back over her journal. You heard some familiar giggles coming from somewhere behind you, and when you turned to look, you locked eyes with the blonde girl from the bathroom - Angie - who was holding some drink in her hand, her two friends flanking her sides as she strolled past your table. Her eyes drifted briefly to Joel before she passed by, then turned her attention to her friends, disappearing into the crowd.

"Who is that?" you asked, realizing you never really got much of an explanation. Joel and Ellie responded at the same time.

"Nobody."

"Joel's ex."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joel glared at Ellie.

"What? She woulda found out eventually," Ellie protested.

"She ain't even an ex," he said, turning to you now. "Just a mistake I made one time before you even got here," he insisted. The tone in his voice made it sound like he was trying to reassure you there was nothing to worry about, but of course, the information didn't phase you.

"Okay," you replied with a shrug. He examined your blank stare for a moment, searching for a glimmer of recognition. The disappointment in his expression every time something like this happened was becoming too much to bear, so you dragged your eyes off him to glance around the crowded room once again. You found Tommy leaning against the bar and you stood up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"I need to ask Tommy something," you said. "I'll be right back."

His eyes followed you as you pushed your way towards the bar, his heart feeling like it was going to break. He wasn't exactly looking for you to have an overly jealous reaction to hearing about another woman from his past, but your casual indifference hurt more than he expected. When you first found out about Angie, you insisted you weren't jealous but the way you sneered at her going forward, combined with giving him the best sex of his life later that night told him a different story.

"You think she'll ever get her memory back?" Ellie asked, still focusing on her drawing. Joel sighed and dragged his hands down his face.

"I don't know, kid."

"What'd you need to talk to Tommy for?" Joel asked once you both arrived back to his - your - home. You had wandered into the kitchen, Joel hot on your trail.

"Oh, I just had a question about something I saw when we were out there today," you explained, and he raised an eyebrow for you to continue. "There were dead bodies when I came to. They looked all decayed and... subhuman. Now that you told me about the infection, I wanted to ask."

Joel watched you open and close cupboards until you found the glasses, then picked one out to fill with water.

"So you ran into some runners," he said, and you nodded. "Did he happen to mention how you hit your head?"

Your hand froze, your glass halfway to your lips as you considered his question.

"Actually, no, he didn't," you said, setting down the glass and looking up at him.

"Yeah, he didn't really tell me, either," he replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When he told me you hit your head and you were havin' trouble remeberin' things, I just came runnin'."

Guilt washed over you yet again as you thought about Joel being told the news and how panicked he must have been. He practically ripped all the exam room doors off their hinges to find you, only to be met with a stranger when he finally did.

"Well, I can ask him tomorrow," you finally said, putting your glass in the sink to avoid looking at him.

"Yeah," he replied, trailing off a bit. He was still lost in thought, trying to remember Tommy's exact words when you walked past him towards the stairs.

"You're tired?"

"Well, it's been a long day," you told him, pausing on a stair to look back down at him.

"Right, 'course," he said, shaking his head and following you up. When you got to the doorway of his bedroom you paused, looking up at him. It seemed like he was struggling to say something, his mind working hard to find the words, but instead he just gazed down at you, brown eyes all wide and soft.

"Don't suppose anythin's comin' back to you yet?" he finally asked, and you hated seeing that look. That same hopeful look you kept seeing right before you opened your mouth and crushed him. This was hard for him, you knew that, but the way he kept looking at you was making things so much worse. The pressure you felt to become this person he was expecting you to be was overwhelming. You opted to drop your gaze to the floor and slowly shake your head.

"That's okay," he said, and you dragged your eyes back up to him. "Maybe tomorrow."

You gave him a small smile. "Yeah, maybe."

He sighed and glanced at the door to the spare room.

"You need anythin', I'm right next door," he said, hitching his thumb to the side and giving you a lopsided grin, but you could still see it in his eyes. The disappointment. The sadness. The yearning. And it was making you feel sick.

Just as he turned to head towards the spare room, you spoke. "Joel?"

And he eagerly swiveled back around.

"I'm gonna try really hard to remember," you said earnestly, looking deep into his eyes.

"I know," he replied with a sad smile. He gave you one more look before heading into the spare room and softly closing the door behind him.

Joel slept like shit.

No surprise there, really. He hadn't slept without you in years. He had hoped the whiskey would have helped, but he was wrong. His mind was racing as he tossed and turned, and by morning he had foolishly convinced himself that you would be back to normal after a good night's rest. He got up early and made coffee for the two of you, like he always did, then tended to the fire in the living room. The nights and early mornings were frigid, but the days were warm. The first sign that fall was approaching fast. He was just putting the poker back when he heard the bedroom door creak open upstairs and his heart jumped into his throat excitedly, but when you descended the stairs and locked eyes with him, he knew nothing had changed. He didn't even bother to ask. You didn't look at him the same way you used to. You used to smile and gravitate towards him, your hands always seeking out his, your eyes playful and loving, but now you looked at him like he was a complete stranger. Devoid of all affection, the only thing that remained was a forced politeness.

You said good morning and headed into the kitchen and Joel wondered how long it would take for you to come around. Less than a day ago, you looked at him in fear, but now you seemed at least comfortable in his presence. That had to count for something.

He must have looked like shit because when he joined you in the kitchen, you eyed him up and down curiously.

"Have you been up for a while?"

He shook his head and picked up his mug, taking a sip and hoping the caffeine would bring him back to life.

"How's your head?" he asked.

"Not great," you admitted, pouring your own cup of coffee. "It really hurts. I think whatever meds the doctor gave me yesterday wore off."

Without even thinking, Joel quickly closed the distance between you to examine your injury. You startled a bit when he came up behind you and lifted your hair, but for his benefit, you tamped down your reaction. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he gripped the nape of your neck to angle your head downwards in order to get a better look. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you focused on his fingertips pressing tenderly into your skin. You heard him murmur to himself, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and you realized just how close he really was. Aside from pulling you out of the way so the kids playing tag wouldn't knock you down, it was the first time he had really touched you, and he was so much softer than you expected.

"Don't think it's infected but let's go see the doc, just to be sure," he said, his hand still on your neck, his other hand pushing your hair away.

"Okay," you said quietly, finally allowing yourself to take in a shaky breath as you waited for him to release you.

As if he realized what he was doing, he let your hair fall back into place and let go of your neck, his fingertips lightly trailing down your spine before falling to his side, making you shiver and step away.

"Sorry," he said. "Should've asked to look first."

"It's fine," you told him, absentmindedly rubbing the spot on your neck his fingers just touched.

As you walked side by side to the infirmary, his stony expression slid back into place. Gone was the softness you witnessed in his home. His hardened gaze drifted around the street, then to the watch towers, taking everything in. Studying. Calculating. And that was when you realized there were two Joel Millers: the one who the rest of the town viewed as gruff and callous, and the one you saw in the kitchen that morning, soft and gentle.

You wondered how many people got to see the latter version.

Nick examined you again in the same room as before, but this time, Joel was there watching his every move like a hawk. You could practically see the tension radiating off Nick's shoulders as he moved around the room. He examined your cut carefully, Joel's eyes never once leaving his hands, confirming that it was not infected before parceling out ten little white tablets of extra strength Tylenol into a small baggie and advising you to use them sparingly as inventory was low.

"That's it?" Joel asked incredulously.

"You know how it is, Joel," Nick said, but you heard his voice waver when Joel stood up from his chair. "Meds are hard to come by, we gotta be smart-"

"She hit her goddamn head so fuckin' hard she's lucky she remembers her own name and you're givin' her Tylenol?" he seethed, and you could see his neck growing flush with anger again.

"Joel, calm down, it's fine," you said, sliding off the table. Turning to Nick, you were about to voice your thanks when Joel cut you off.

"It ain't fine. What's it gotta take to get somethin' that actually works?" he huffed, taking a step forward and making Nick shift his weight nervously. "She gotta be missin' an arm? Maybe if she hit her head hard enough to forget what fuckin' planet she's on?"

"Joel, that's enough!" you snapped with a frown, and much to Nick's relief, Joel instantly backed off. He turned and paced around the small room, his hand rubbing over his mouth as he tried to calm down.

"What about my memory? Is it a bad sign I haven't remembered anything yet?" you asked Nick, and Joel paused somewhere behind you to listen to his answer.

"Well, the brain is a tricky thing," he began, his eyes darting over your shoulder briefly. "It could be weeks, could be months. Without any imaging, I wouldn't be able to tell you much more than that." You nodded and swallowed nervously before asking your next question.

"Or never, right?"

Nick took a deep breath and looked at Joel over your shoulder again before responding.

"It's possible."

You heard Joel's boots squeak against the linoleum floor and without even looking, you knew he was anxiously pacing around again.

"Alright, thank you. We'll get out of your hair now," you said, turning to corral Joel towards the door.

"Regardless, I'd like to see you again in a few days so I can take a look at those stitches," Nick said, and you agreed while pushing a muttering Joel back out into the hallway.

"I'll get you better meds," he said as you both walked out of the infirmary. "I got patrol tomorrow mornin', but I can go out after. There's a small cluster of houses we never did a full sweep on. Maybe-"

"The Tylenol is fine, don't go through the trouble. You could get hurt," you said, shoving the baggie of pills into your pocket.

"Tylenol ain't gonna do shit. I don't want you bein' in pain if there's somethin' we can do about it."

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to temporarily relieve the ache in your head until you could get home and take one of the pills. You gave Joel a sideways glance, studying him as you walked together. He was brash and rude and aggressive, but you were learning that side of him came out when he was being protective over the ones he loved.

Or when he was trying to hide who he really was.

"So, everyone pitches in around here, right?" you asked, trying to change the subject. "You do patrol. What do I do?"

You paused at a crossroads, trying to remember which way to go, when Joel's hand on your elbow guided you in the right direction.

"You work patrol, too, but you ain't doin' that anymore," he said, letting go of your elbow after holding on for a moment too long.

"Well, obviously. I don't even know how to ride a horse," you said with a snort. "So I guess I need to find a new job, right? Who do I talk to?"

"Why don't you slow down a minute?" Joel said with a chuckle. "Let that pretty little head of yours heal up before you go lookin' for work."

You weren't going to say anything about his comment. Although it took you off guard, you realized he had habits that were going to be hard to ignore and you didn't expect that to happen overnight, but he seemed to realize what he said on his own and awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay. I know this is difficult for you," you said, shooting him a sympathetic glance as you climbed his porch steps. He swung open the door and followed you inside, where you made a beeline for a glass of water so you could take one of the pills.

"We got a lotta history, you and me. It's hard to start over," he said as he watched you toss back the Tylenol with a wince. You examined his face closely and pulled out one of the stools to sit down. You leaned forward, forearms resting on the cool countertop before replying.

"Tell me a story."

He raised an eyebrow at you but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up a bit.

"What kinda story?"

"A story about us. You just said we have a lot of history together. Let's hear some of it," you replied with an encouraging smile.

"You sure? Thought you'd wanna go lay down," he said, but he eagerly pulled up a stool across from you.

"I think I can handle one little story," you told him, then watched as he stared down at his hands on top of the counter, deep in thought. When he thought of one, a slow smile spread across his face and his dark brown eyes flicked up to meet yours and you saw that softer side of him again.

"Alright," he said, settling back a bit. "So I told'ya last night how we met."

You cringed, remembering the story of a much bolder and seductive version of yourself, and nodded.

"Well, after that night we started seein' each other for a few weeks. It was just casual, nothin' serious," he said, looking down at his hands again. "I convinced you to sneak around so no one would catch on, and you grew tired of that. Rightfully so. I was bein' an asshole."

You watched him pull at a loose thread on the cuff of his flannel shirt, his eyes still cast down and you were beginning to realize it was due to shame.

"So anyway. One day you came over to, y'know..." he said, and you felt the heat in your cheeks again. "And you confronted me about it head on. Demanded to know why I wanted to keep you a secret. Thought I was ashamed of you - which I wasn't," he said quickly, his eyes finally meeting yours again. "But I had been through a lot of shit and I just didn't think I could give myself to someone like that again."

"What kind of shit?" you asked quietly, but he just lightly shook his head.

"One story at a time," he told you with a sad smile. You chewed on your lower lip as you waited for him to continue, his focus back on the loose string while he collected his thoughts.

"So I explained I had a hard time lettin' people in, that I wasn't capable of carin' 'bout anyone like that anymore, and you said to me, 'I know who you are, Joel Miller. Don't give me that bullshit, you're just scared.'"

He stared into your eyes, letting what he said land and hoping to see a flicker of the woman who spoke those words, but you just continued to look at him, waiting for him to finish the story like it was about somebody else entirely.

"Well, you were right, obviously. You always are," he continued with a smirk. "It knocked me on my ass. And I didn't know what was more difficult to believe: that you knew me better than I knew myself, or someone like you wanted anythin' to do with me in the first place."

You smiled and dropped your gaze to the counter, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, but so far, these stories don't sound like me at all," you admitted.

He took a deep breath and finally stopped fidgeting with his sleeve.

"A lot's happened in ten years. Stuff that changes people. But I don't care what version of you's here, I love all of you."

You kept your eyes glued to his hands. You wished you could say it back. You knew he wanted to hear it. Maybe one day.

He tapped his finger on the counter, pulling your attention up so you were forced to look him in the eye.

"You fought for me that night, now I'm gonna fight for you, okay?" he said, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded sheepishly, his shoulders relaxed.

"So you're saying I fell in love with you because you were an asshole?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked. Joel laughed heartily and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nah, you didn't love me then," he said, still smiling.

"So how did I fall in love with you?" you asked, and his tongue clicked against his teeth.

"You're gonna have to wait to find out," he replied with a wink.

It wasn't his fault, but the rest of the day you could feel Joel looking at you. He was examining you, waiting to see the woman he fell in love with, and the pressure was beginning to be too much, so you made up an excuse to go lay down in his bedroom. He had mentioned he had patrol in the morning. Maybe some time away from him would help you relax.

You stared up at the white ceiling. The distant sound of children laughing outside through the closed window and then the door to the garage swinging open and shut acted as a soundtrack to your overactive thoughts. You almost had to laugh. It felt like your mind was constantly working, churning up information and digesting it only to always come up empty.

Absolutely nothing seemed familiar. Nothing about this place or these people felt like home.

You wished so badly you could remember something. Anything to make you feel like you belonged there. One little shred of hope was all you were looking for.

And then you remembered the journal.

Sitting up in bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and reached over for the black book. You fingers hesitated for a moment on the cover. It felt like an invasion of privacy, but how could that be when it was your own?

Taking a deep breath, you flipped open the journal and began at the beginning.

Right away, you could tell you wrote the entries. There was no doubt in your mind. Aside from your handwriting, your typical disorganization shone through like a beacon on every page. You occasionally remembered to notate in the margin the date, or your best guess at the date, but more often than not you were left with very little context for each small paragraph you read.

You were disappointed to realize the journal seemed to begin after you had met Joel. A big part of you was very eager to learn more about the person you were before finding Jackson, but it seemed as though you would have to depend on others to tell you stories you hopefully had relayed to them in the past.

The first page looked to be a list of items you had jotted down that didn't make much sense, but maybe when you first found the notebook, you hadn't intended to use it as a journal.

Socks, colored pencils, sunflower seeds, cards.

Flipping the page, you skimmed a short paragraph about a cabin you stumbled upon when on patrol. Again, it was more notes than anything of any substance. A description of approximately where it was in relation to Jackson along with a note to 'mention it at the next town hall meeting'.

Finally something interesting on the next page, you read a short paragraph about someone named Maria having a baby girl, and you frowned when you read the line Joel handled it better than I expected.

Continuing on, you read an entry about Christmas: Joel found me the softest sweater, it almost felt brand new. I really don't know how he managed to find it and I described the house I grew up in to Ellie and she drew it perfectly, I can't believe how talented she is.

One paragraph in particular grabbed your attention. It was about two people, and based on the context, it sounded like you were close friends. For the first time since we got here, I had the same day off as Ben and Lisa. We went fishing together and brought a lunch. It felt just like old times. As weird as it sounds, sometimes I miss being out there with them. We made a good team.

Maybe this Ben and Lisa would be able to answer some questions you had about yourself. Based on what you just read, it sounded like they knew you before Jackson.

There was a lot more to read, but the next page stopped you dead in your tracks. Your heart began to beat faster as you stared at the four words. Just one sentence, no explanation. A shiver slowly trickled down your spine as you sat there, unmoving, as your vision narrowed on the page: Joel lied to me.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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drabbles-mc · 2 months

Text

Lucky For You

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, mentions of hospitals/injuries, no use of "y/n"

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: earlier tonight i lied to myself and said i wouldn't work on any new oneshots until i finished a wip. but I've been marinating on this idea since last week and i just had to write it down. just a short cute little fluffy somethin'! my first twisters fic. hope you enjoy!

You were shaking your head as you walked back over to the side of the picnic table that Tyler was sitting at. You had a beer bottle in one hand, the other resting on Tyler’s shoulder as you stepped in so you could plop back down beside him at the table.

“I’m still trying to figure out what you guys told Lily to say,” you gestured to Lily then Kate with the bottom of your beer bottle before taking a quick sip, “to get Kate to cave so quickly.” You gave Lily a playful smile. “What’d you say to convince her? Hm? ‘Cause lord knows it wasn’t either of these two,” you said as you nodded to Tyler first, then Boone.

Both men looked at you with dramatic looks of offense. “What?” Tyler asked, grin starting to curl his lips as he spoke. “You don’t think we were charming or convincing enough on our own?”

You rolled your eyes as he draped his arm around you. “No, I don’t.”

It got another wave of laughter. Tyler took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to lean in and kiss your temple. “Seemed to work just fine on you.” He reached across and stole your beer bottle from you, taking a sip before allowing you to snatch it back. “And you said yes to a way more dangerous proposition.”

You shook your head even though you were smiling, even though you could feel your cheeks warming. It was no great secret, or even breaking news at this point after the last few years you’d spent married to the ridiculous man sitting on the picnic table bench next to you. Sometimes, though, you couldn’t help the cheesy grin that crossed your face when you became a little more aware than usual of the wedding band on your hand.

“That’s different,” you said, not that it mattered, not that it helped your case at all as Tyler continued to nettle you good-naturedly.

“How’d you two meet, anyway?” Kate asked.

It was a fair question. You didn’t chase with the rest of them, never had. You’d met and fallen in love with Tyler before he decided to make a career out of it. The journey wasn’t always a smooth or easy one, but you never doubted him, or your relationship, not even for a second. Even in the hard times. A lot can happen over the course of six years, but you still clearly remembered when you first met him.

Tyler had started watching you the second he realized where Kate’s question was going. He watched the little twitches and shifts of your hands and facial expressions as you went rapid-fire back down memory lane. When you ended up with a little smirk on your face, he knew that you were all too happy to tell the story.

You took another drink from your beer bottle before just handing it back to Tyler, rather than trying to make him steal it again. “When I met Tyler, I’d say about, oh, seventy percent? Yeah, seventy. About seventy percent of his face was covered in bruises and bumps. Fractured cheekbone, split lip.” You turned and looked at him even though you were talking to Kate. “He was lookin’ real cute.”

She laughed, but you could see the mild confusion in her eyes as she looked back and forth between the two of you. “You find him after a rough chase, or…?”

You smiled and shook your head. “We met back before he was the infamous Tornado Wrangler.” Leaning forward, you braced your arms flat on the picnic table, Tyler’s hand sliding from your shoulder down to the center of your back, his palm warming you through your tank top. “They brought him to the hospital that I work at after he got stomped out by a bull at the rodeo.” You felt his fingers drumming against your back and your smile stretched a little wider. “I wasn’t even supposed to be checkin’ in on anyone in the wing he was in, but the nurse who was supposed to help discharge him had to leave.”

Tyler had a cocky little smirk on his face. “Lucky for you though.”

You gave him a look that didn’t pack nearly as much of a punch as it should of since you were grinning. “Yeah, real lucky for me that Jay’s kid got in a fight at school so he had to leave and he left you to me.”

Tyler laughed. “He was cute but I gotta say, I think you’re a little cuter.”

You gave him a playful shove, which he responded to by looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer again. You shook his head at him before looking back at Kate. “Anyway, as I was saying. I go into his room to talk through some of the paperwork with him, and with one eye practically swollen shut still this man right here is tryin’ to get my number.”

“Actually, if I remember right—”

“You were concussed into next Tuesday—I doubt you remember much of anything right.”

“If I remember,” he repeated with a laugh, “I was actually tellin’ you that you should just jot my number down from my patient forms so you could call me sometime.”

You looked at Kate with a feigned nonplussed look. “Told me somethin’ about making a ‘house call’. Real bold for a man who was about half an inch away from some serious brain damage.”

“Probably what gave him the confidence to ask in the first place,” Lily piped up with a laugh.

Everyone was laughing, and listening. Kate might’ve been the only one in present company who hadn’t heard the story before, but it wasn’t as though it was something that the two of you were constantly rehashing all the time. The two of you usually kept the retellings amusing enough anyway, allowing the rest of the crew to throw in their two cents even though they hadn’t been there when it all started. After all, Tyler might’ve been the one you met first, and under some pretty dire conditions, but you’d been around to help out the rest of the team plenty of times since then. Whether you were making sure they were all alright after a rough chase, or meeting up with them in the towns that had been blown through to see who you could help even if you weren’t off the clock. You might not have chased with the rest of them, but you were still part of the team.

“How long did it take for him to wear you down, then?” Kate asked.

The shit-eating grin on Tyler’s face grew tenfold. He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours. “Go ahead. Tell her.”

You dropped your forehead so that it rested on top of your forearms for a moment before looking up and at Kate again. “I gave him my number after I pushed him to the lobby in his wheel chair.”

“Doctor’s orders, by the way,” he interjected with a shake of his head. “I didn’t need it.”

You rolled your eyes but kept going. “He was pretty persistent the whole way down, so I told him if he still remembered my name and number by the time his fractures all healed up, I’d meet him for a cup of coffee or somethin’.”

“Cup of coffee ended up bein’ a split six-pack and a failed bonfire at her cousin’s place, by the way,” he added on with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and your lip still wasn’t fully healed.”

He smirked. “Didn’t stop you though.” You lightly swatted his chest with the back of your hand but you didn’t say anything to refute his statement. “So really, what I’m hearin’, is that you shouldn’t be havin’ any doubts about our charms.”

“Sayin’ yes to a date is nothing like—”

“You also said yes to marryin’ him,” Lily added on, always happy to stir the pot just a little. “Y’know, with the ring that he almost lost in a chase.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “If I left it at home I was sure she’d find it!”

“Yeah,” Lily laughed as she argued, “and if the chase went wrong somebody on the other end of the county would find it. Then what?”

Tyler laughed and shrugged. “Corner store sells Ring Pops.”

You had no shot at tamping down your smile. “Prob’ly still would’ve said yes, too.”

(divider by @saradika 💞)

Twisters Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists): @garbinge

#tyler owens #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #x reader #x reader fic #twisters fanfiction #twisters 2024 fanfiction #twisters #twisters 2024 #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months

Note

older reader?? SAY NO MORE

you're a confident, popular, charismatic lady in your 30s. you catch a pretty, barely-not-teenage gojo at a bar about to get roofied and rescue him.

you're neither a paragon of moral virtues but apparently you do still have some maternal instincts because you take him aside, help him sober up, and give him a stern but well-meaning lecture about watching drinks, staying safe, etc. maybe he gets a headpat and a caring look while you do this.

that's where you thought this would end but to gojo had absent parents and is starved of all forms of affection, including maternal, so he absolutely cannot let this end here and he will exploit his prettiness, his pitifulness, AND your maternal instincts to the max.

if wires get crossed and he manages to get you to bang him (and hopefully feel so guilty about taking advantage that he can get you to stay with him) then even better!!

omgggggyou know me so well-

(Warnings: manipulation, guilt-tripping, large age gap but both characters are 21+, implied non/dubcon, implied drugging)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Bad Night

When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.

Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.

He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.

You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.

"You wake up pretty early."

It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.

You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.

"...Satoru?"

"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.

It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-

Shit.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.

"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"

When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.

"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."

Baby. You want to throw up.

"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."

Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.

What the fuck did you just do?

You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.

You fucked up.

Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.

Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.

He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.

You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.

And then, you ended up sleeping with him.

It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.

You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.

You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.

You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.

Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.

"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.

You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.

"Satoru, we need to talk-"

"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.

When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.

"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"

You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.

He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.

"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."

You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"

"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"

"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"

He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.

You were a horrible person.

"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.

He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.

Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.

But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.

He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.

Not him. Anyone but him.

"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"

"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"

He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."

That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?

But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.

"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"

He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.

You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.

"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."

His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.

"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."

You pat his back, still in a daze.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

He'll snap out of it eventually, right?

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #implied noncon/dubcon #implied drugging #manipulation #yandere gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru being evil #in case you missed it: yes satoru drugged and nonconned the mc #and then he pretended to be innocent about it omgggg he's the worst

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reidswhre · 19 days

Text

on your shoulder; spencer reid x fem!reader

sumamary: based on the episode of "the office" where pam falls asleep on jim's shoulder!

warnings: pure fluff!! early seasons spencer!

a/n: just a lil reminder that my request are open! you can go and send me some 🫶🏼 also english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.

You loved Aaron Hotchner, no doubt he was an amazing boss, and you had no complaints about him. The problem started when he organized those... little meetings, which, well, could be kind of boring.

And honestly, you hadn’t been sleeping well these last few days either. There was a lot of paperwork left from the cases that had to be dealt with immediately, which didn’t really help your sleep schedule.

Right now, Hotch was giving a talk about... hmm, you weren’t sure. Maybe about victimology or something like that, but you were way too tired to pay attention.

“Hey, you okay?” A voice came from your left, it was Spencer sitting beside you.

“What? Yeah, yeah, of course,” you yawned. “I just haven’t slept well.”

“I figured. You should try to get some rest, not sleeping decreases your attention, concentration, and memory. Plus, it lowers your work performance. It can even cause anxiety or depression,” Reid explained.

Your eyes opened wide. “What?! Depression?! Spencer, no way. I’ve just stayed up late a few nights, I’m fine.” You chuckled and leaned back in your chair, almost looking like you were going to fall out of it.

“It’s okay,” he said, watching you.

He used to take his time watching you, not in a creepy way, at least he hoped not. It was more like you sparked his curiosity, he thought you were really pretty.

He saw you fighting to keep your eyes open, which you were definitely losing. Your eyes were closing, your lashes falling down, and your cheeks had a lovely blush to them that you probably added this morning. You looked beautiful.

Spencer felt your head drop onto his shoulder, and he immediately tensed up. The scent of your shampoo hit his nose, it smelled fresh and sweet, just like you.

He relaxed a little, letting you rest for the remaining part of Hotch’s magnificent meeting.

You opened your eyes after a while, feeling a bit lost. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” You lifted your head when you realized it had been resting on Spencer.

“Don’t worry about it, it didn’t bother me.” He gave you a small smile, the kind where he kept his lips closed.

You looked around and realized no one else was in the room except for the two of you. “Where is everyone?” you asked Spencer, confused.

“They, uh... well, they left,” he said, looking away. “The meeting ended.”

You gasped in surprise. “What? How long ago?”

“Not long... maybe half an hour,” he said, finally looking at you.

“Half an hour?! Spencer, why didn’t you wake me up?” You could feel the embarrassment filling every inch of your body. You had been asleep on him for more than half an hour?!

“I... well, you—” He stumbled over his words. “You looked comfortable and... you needed the rest, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me? I was bothering you! I’m so sorry, seriously.” You were too embarrassed to think straight.

“What? No, no, really, it wasn’t a bother at all, never would be.” He gave you a sincere look.

You smiled at this; he was always pretty sweet with you. “Thanks, really.”

He gave you a small smile in response.

“So...” You glanced around the empty room. “What did I miss?”

“You should’ve paid attention,” Spencer teased.

“Very funny, huh?” You rolled your eyes.

Spencer looked at you, and honestly, he loved the idea of having you this close all the time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #request #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #fluff #criminal minds x reader #mgg #mathew gray gubler #mathew gray gubler x reader

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stillmonsterz · 5 months

Text

birds of a feather

this is part two to brave it together.

pairing: jay x reader, jake x reader genre: smut, angst, slight humor summary: after your eventful week, you assumed that life would go back to normal. instead, things only become even more complicated and tangled. your feelings for jay continue morphing, and his treatment of you only make you feel even more confused. as you attempt to balance your newfound social life, your complex intrapersonal relationships, and the mystery surrounding mina's suicide, you begin to wonder if there's anyone in the school you could trust. contains: unprotected sex, dubcon, drug usage, alcohol usage, manipulation, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, infidelity, exhibitionism, name calling word count: 28.9k taglist: @moon7jay @ui11iane @bambangan @belowbun @sseobonggs

You were lying in Jay’s arms, and you were scared to make a sound. If you did, you felt as though he would remember you were there and tell you to leave. But right now, as his cheek rested on your bare shoulder, you didn’t want to go.

After you had gone to his room, you had drunk exactly one shot of the whiskey he had promised you before he was all over you again. You’d had sex twice more in his bedroom after your time on the roof. It was a blur to you, a hazy deluge of memories: being spanked, thrown around in whatever position he wanted you in, hands gripping you tight enough to leave an array of bruises more vibrant than the last set, kisses full of venom.

Jay clung to you after he came the third time, your back flush against his chest so that you were spooning. You basked in his attention, in the scent of Jay’s sweat mixed with his cologne.

You didn’t want to move your head, so you had a limited view of his room. In the dark, you could see his nightstand, whereupon a half-empty package of cigarettes, a box of condoms, some scattered books, and assorted jewelry lay. The condoms surprised you, because Jay hadn’t used any with you.The floor was messy, with clothes strewn haphazardly on the plush carpet. Some of those were yours. You could see band posters stuck all over, some you recognized and some you didn’t. The room was gradually becoming brighter, and you dimly realized that the sun was rising. Already? It was November, meaning that it had to be approaching morning-time.

“Jay,” you muttered. He made a muffled noise and shifted, pressing his cheek against you. “Jay, it’s morning.”

“Mm…”

“I should go.”

Some part of you wanted him to tell you to stay, but instead Jay whispered, “One more round?” HIs hands started to caress your waist again.

You sighed. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Jay groaned and released you, sitting up in his bed. His hair was messy, and by the light filtering in through his curtains, you could see that you had left scratches on his back and shoulders. The cigarette mark you had made last night still lingered on his arm. “You’re still such a prude,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“What if someone catches us?” You sat up as well, mustering the urge to stand. Your legs were terribly sore, and when you tried to stand up they shook like a fawn’s.

Jay watched you as you collected your clothes from the ground and put them on mechanically. “You’re right,” he said in a strange voice. “It’s 7, so I doubt anyone in Stoker will be up anyways. If you take the back exit…down the back set of stairs…take a right…you should be fine.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, fumbling with the buttons of your jacket. All you’d had to eat yesterday was a samosa and three cigarettes, with scant sleep in between, and it was starting to take a toll on your body. The cold that had been brewing was starting to rear its ugly head, and you made a note to get your hands on some cough syrup. You were glad that you wore shoes you could slip into, because you doubted that you could be trusted to tie shoelaces.

Jay sighed and beckoned for you. “C’mere,” he said. “You’re so helpless. You’re like a newborn or something.”

You shuffled over to the bed, sitting on the edge. “You have sex with newborns often?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jay fixed your buttons for you, one by one. “Don’t get cute with me.”

“Sorry.”

“And don’t be sarcastic, either. It doesn’t look good on you.” Jay squeezed your cheeks between his thumb and middle finger, pulling it this way and that as though to inspect your features. “You look like shit.”

“It’s been a long weekend,” you say dryly.

“Hm.” Jay looked into your eyes for a few seconds too long before releasing you. “Well, get out of here. Don’t need Jake having a stroke because I’ve defiled his new white whale.” Jay chuckled, his usual smug expression returning. “On second thought, maybe you should stay. I could call Jakey, he could come over here, and I could show him just how good you are at taking my-,”

“Goodbye,” you said, pulling away from him and standing upright. Just the sound of Jake’s name made you feel odd. Not guilt, not shame, but another emotion you couldn’t place. Something nasty, something that felt like tar trickling down your throat.

“Bye, little prude,” Jay said. “Oh, where are my manners?” He got out of bed, shivered at the cold, and opened the door for you. His eyes glittered with their usual spark of malice, and it made you wonder what he was going to do. You didn’t want to stick around to find out, so you nodded your head and took a step from his room.

There was a tug at your jacket’s collar, and Jay whispered your name. You turned your head to meet his gaze once more. “Probably don’t have to tell you this,” he began, eyes trained on you, “but don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Who would I tell?” you replied quietly.

Jay smiled, his dimple adding an uncharacteristic boyishness to his otherwise chiseled face. “Good answer,” he said, “but that’s not a yes. Don’t tell anyone we fucked, alright?”

You looked down at the ground. For some reason, it still hadn’t sunk in that you had voluntarily slept with Jay. Several times, at that.

“Look at me,” he said, and you lifted your head. “You won’t tell a soul?”

“I won’t,” you said softly.

Jay nodded and let go of your jacket. “You’re so obedient,” he muttered. “You’ll make an excellent housewife someday.”

“Housewife? I don’t know if I want to get married.”

“Please. Nice, meek girls like you always end up barefoot and pregnant to some hulking idiot,” Jay said dismissively. “It’s a matter of when, not if.”

“What about you?” you asked.

Jay frowned. “What about me?”

“Will you get married, have kids?”

A brief flash of hurt crossed Jay’s features, the first time you had ever seen it on his face. “Can’t have kids,” he said. “I shoot blanks.”

“Oh.”

“I had hypospadias as a baby. Got the surgery young, everything is fine, I’m just completely sterile. So I’ll never bear my parents an heir.” Jay said the last sentence in someone else’s voice, as though he were mimicking words another had said.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Jay snorted and scratched his arm. “Don’t be,” he said. “I can fuck like an animal and never get a bitch pregnant. It’s the best. So you don’t have to worry about having my kid…although I feel like you would look good pregnant.”

“Jay.”

“You’d gain weight in all the right places…yeah, I wouldn’t let you abort my kid,” Jay continued. “You’d be forced to bear little Jay junior, and like a good father I would pay child support and take the little shit to Disneyland once in a while. And he’d be like, ‘Daddy, daddy, I just got a b minus in math class!’ And I’d say, ‘Son, you’re going to learn that math matters little in the real world. Come, let me take you to Hooters, so that you can swim in the ocean with men, instead of wallowing in the kiddy pool of arithmetic.’”

“Little Jay junior wouldn’t be happy,” you said, smiling slightly. “How could he be happy when Daddy hates Mommy?”

Jay laughed, quietly enough so the sound didn’t resonate down the hallway. He leaned against the doorframe, holding his arm above his head. “Please. Daddies hate mommies all the time. It’s normal.”

You hesitated before whispering, “And do mommies hate daddies?”

Jay paused as well. One of his hands reached out slowly and gently rubbed at the corner of your lips. ”They should,” he murmured, flicking something away. “They should hate daddies. Mommies aren’t very smart sometimes.” Jay cleared his throat, pulling his hand away from you. “Now run along or I really will split you open in front of Jake.”

Without another word, you took off down the hallway. The wide hallway alone reeked of decadence and dripped with pretension. There was no reason why a college dorm should have delicate china vases balancing on hardwood nightstands that lined the hallways, nor why the walls should have crown molding. What asshole had spent this much money on a college dorm?

As you crept towards the back staircase, you noticed that one of the dorm rooms had a sock on the doorknob. That seemed much more appropriate for a building populated largely by idiotic young men. You continued down the steps, to the right, and exited the building safely.

Just before you left to head to Fawcett, you turned around. The lights were off in all of the rooms except for one, and if you shielded your eyes, you could see a dark figure inside. You wondered if it wasn’t Jay watching you. You thought about waving, but that would seem far too playful. You continued walking through the cold, back to your own dorm.

–

After a weary shower in the communal bathroom and a long, long nap in your room, you decided that it might be time to actually get some schoolwork done. You had a group project that you hadn’t started, assignments in all of your classes, and you had to be at the library by four to start your shift there.

You were ravenous, though. Damned if you saw Isa, or Riki, or whoever else. You were going to go to Fawcett and get yourself something to eat. You put some decent clothes on, pocketed some of the money Jay had given you, and went to the caf. Amazingly, no one was there. No one you knew, anyways. You got yourself a breakfast meal and tore into it. As you ate, you decided to text Isa. Yesterday had been too busy, too overwhelming to even think about talking to another soul.

You: Sorry for the late message. I’m doing all right. Hope you’re okay.

Isa texted back so quickly, your head spun.

Isa: im doing great omg

Isa: no need to apologize!

Isa: are u okay though? :(((

Isa: jake told me jay was bothering you again :/

Isa: i talked to jay about it and he says he’ll stop

Isa: im so glad we’re talking again i missed him badddd

What?

You: You and Jay?

Isa: yupp

Isa: he says hi btw

Isa: he’s with me rn

Isa: oh him and jake fought

Isa: jake looks fuckedddd lol

Isa: shouldn’t have fought w jay

Isa: he’s a psycho fr

Isa: i’ve always liked them a little crazy lmao

A chill ran through you, and the bite of food you had been chewing turned into ash. You swallowed it, nearly choking. Already? He had gone to Isa already? Mere hours after you two had fucked? And what did she mean by “my man”, when Jay had explicitly told you that they weren’t dating?

You recollected yourself and typed out a quick “see you at work” message to Isa. Why did you care so much? Things were going back to the way they had always been. Jay teased you, Isa was gorgeous, and they would make tender, sweet love while you twiddled your fucking thumbs and knitted sweaters. This was the way things had been for weeks, months, years. Why should they change now? It was obvious to you now. Jay had merely used you to get his rocks off, just another ploy in his juvenile game. In just a few days, he had erased months of harassment by showing you the barest modicum of kindness. Jay was right. You were pathetic.

You forced yourself to eat the rest of your food, lest you faint from hunger. If Jay was going to return to his old self, so would you. You would withdraw into yourself once more and pretend like the past week had never happened.

–

You didn’t know why you still bothered making dramatic ultimatums like that. After your classes on Monday, which were such an unbearable slog that you almost wished Jay had pushed you off the roof, you trudged to your job at the library.

When you got to the main desk, Jay and Isa were already there. It was revolting, seeing Jay lean in to give Isa a gentle kiss on the lips, far sweeter than any he had given you. Your face burned with indignation, but you swallowed it down. If there was anything you were good at, it was pretending not to have emotions. Sometimes you almost believed it.

Isa was wearing a baggy T-shirt, which you recognized as Jay’s Jane’s Addiction t-shirt, over a red-and-black plaid skirt with combat boots. It was a cute, punk look.

“Isa,” you said with a slight wave. She turned to you and squealed, and any irritation you held towards her washed away.

“I was so worried about you,” Isa wailed, rushing forward to give you a hug. You hugged her back stiffly, patting her back. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sick,” you said quietly. “The weather.” She smelled like Jay’s cologne.

“Stupid Jake and his golf cart,” Isa mumbled.

“Golf cart? He had my golf cart?” Jay’s voice was incredulous, and you tried not to focus on the way his thumb was hooked through the belt loops on Isa’s skirt.

“Yeah, he drove us to Yeonjun’s in it,” Isa said, turning to look at Jay with shimmering eyes.

“What the fuck? That was mine,” Jay said. “I was wondering why it was missing. What the fuck is his problem?”

“I didn’t know you played golf.”

“I do a lot of things you don’t know about.”

Isa danced her fingers up Jay’s chest. “Maybe you could show me some of those things.”

Jesus. You walked past Isa and stood behind the main desk, picking up the list of tasks. The words swam in front of your eyes, and you blinked several times to clear up the dizziness. “I’m going to contact the clubs,” you said weakly. The library regularly booked spaces for different clubs, and you were in charge of corresponding with them. Sometimes you wondered exactly what the morning library staff did.

Isa nodded at you. “Jay’s gonna help me shelve the books,” she said, gripping the front of his shirt. “Aren’t you?” She pouted at him.

“Whatever,” Jay said. You kept your head bowed as you settled into the swivel chair, booting up the computer. Their footsteps faded, and you snuck one look at their retreating figures. Just like last week, you observed that they did look good together.

The minutes passed by without you realizing it. You were grateful for the routine: help people with stupid questions, check out books, place holds. Sometimes you would hear Isa’s giggle and your heart would clench. As you worked at the desk, a shadow covered your workspace. Assuming that it was a student, you said, “Can I help you?” before you looked up.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to get someone a smoothie, but she doesn’t stop working,” a familiar voice said. Jake stood in front of you, both hands drumming on the desk. His eye was still swollen, his eyelids painted a harsh, glossy purple. His smile only served to showcase his split lip, and his hair fell into his eyes as usual.

“Jake,” you said. “I don’t get off for another ten minutes.”

“I figured,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “But I wanted to see you before then. You aren’t busy, are you?”

“Incredibly busy. Can’t you see I’m being swarmed by people?”

Jake laughed, so you let out a soft chuckle too. If only he didn’t have feelings for you. If only he wasn’t in the Karma Club. If only he hadn’t potentially driven a girl to suicide, or worse.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, resting his arms on the desk and propping his chin on his sleeves. Now that he was eye-level with you, you could study his features closely. Despite his injuries, Jake was still really cute.

“Don’t think so,” you said. “Hardest thing to do is reshelving, and Isa and Jay are doing that.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of Jay’s name. “So they’re back together?”

“I guess.”

“That’s a surprise, considering how much Jay bitches about Isa. Then again, what doesn’t Jay bitch about? He’d whine about a fountain of gold if he could. And he’s helping her do something? Seriously? Isa’s amazing.”

You must have looked pretty bad, because Jake’s face grew worried. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Just a little sick. Hurricane and all.”

“The smoothie will be full of Vitamin C,” Jake said thoughtfully. “So that should help rejuvenate your system, boost your immune system. Oh, speaking of that, you mind if Sunghoon comes? He’s chill.”

Sunghoon? He was the one who had been there on that first fateful day of school, the one who had looked at you with such scorn. “Sure,” you said. “Hey, by the w-,”

Jake cut you off by plucking something off of your sweater; a little piece of yarn. “Sorry,” he said, flicking it away, “it was bothering me.”

“No problem,” you mumbled. It had been so natural, the way he had done that. You couldn’t imagine what it was like to just live without second-guessing your actions, your words. In that moment, you deeply envied Jake.

His soft eyes met with yours again. “How come you always wear those big sweaters, anyways?”

“They’re comfortable,” you said.

“Seems a little hot,” Jake said. “I mean, you’re even wearing a turtleneck under there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him that you were trying to hide the hickeys Jay had given you, so you muttered, “It’s winter soon.”

“I guess,” Jake said. He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he dropped it.

“I’ll meet you at Stopkewich,” you said, adjusting the collar of your sweater. “Just have to finish up here.”

“Sure, sure,” Jake said, grinning widely. “See you.”

For some reason, you wanted to feel normal, like everyone else. You reached out and grabbed the cuff of his flannel’s sleeve. Jake looked at you expectantly. “What is it, Wednesday?”

You grasped for words before finally mustering up a quiet, “Thanks for coming to see me.”

To your surprise, and slight confusion, Jake grew bashful, looking down at the ground. “Aw, it was no big deal. It’s fun seeing you…seeing you in the zone, y’know?”

You let go of his sleeve, pleased at your success. It was really that easy? “Thank you anyways,” you said.

Jake waved at you, licking his busted lip as he walked backwards. “See you in five,” he said before accidentally knocking into a display of pamphlets. He glanced around him before walking away quickly, heading out the doors. Cute.

“Ooh,” Isa said. You hadn’t even realized that she had returned, but when you looked away from the exit you saw Isa and Jay standing around the desk. “You and Jake, huh?”

“I didn’t realize Jake liked her,” Jay said, his eyes fixed on Isa. You had resented his cold gaze for a long time, but you disliked his indifference more.

“Oh, they were so close at Yeonjun’s,” Isa said, clasping her hands together. “They were dancing together, and when she went to lie down, Jake went in after her. He didn’t come out for a while…”

“Is that so?” Jay asked coolly.

“Yeah,” you said, looking directly at Isa. “We just talked, though.”

Isa looked disappointed. “That’s it?”

You shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Well, I support it,” Isa said, regaining steam. “Maybe we could go on double dates.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Jay said quickly. “Jake’s a pussy. He’d never ask her out.”

“I mean…” Isa’s voice turned sly, and she playfully poked your arm. “They’re already going out for smoothies today, right?”

“Yeah. That’s why Jake came here,” you said, “he wanted to see me before we went…”

Isa clapped her hands together and pushed Jay. “Oh, so cute. If you guys got together, wouldn’t he be your first boyfriend?”

Scary how Isa already knew you had no experience, but you figured it was glaringly apparent. “He would be.”

“So cute,” she repeated. “You can go ahead and leave early. I’ll finish up around here.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Isa said fiercely. “You go get your man.”

You smiled at Isa, getting to your feet. “You’re so sweet,” you said.

“Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” she said with a laugh. You walked out of the library without casting another glance in Jay’s direction. You didn’t know what his game was, but you didn’t care. If your life wouldn’t return to normal, then you would at least try to get a smoothie out of the deal.

–

Jake and Sunghoon were lingering just outside of Stopkewich. It was fascinating, seeing the effect that they had on people; swathes of students and even some members of the faculty gave them such a wide berth that one could think there was a bubble surrounding them.

You waved at Jake when you got closer, and Jake smiled and trotted up to you. Sunghoon followed, pale hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” Jake said. “Jay didn’t bother you today, right?”

You shook your head.

“Great. Great, good. Probably doesn’t want another fight,” Jake said, looking away.

“Yeah, he doesn’t,” Sunghoon said, nudging Jake’s arm. He gave you an appraising look. It seemed that all members of the Karma Club had a way of analyzing people, breaking them into their basest components.

“Fuck off, Hoon,” Jake mumbled.

Sunghoon laughed and stuck out his hand. “Sunghoon Park.”

You took his hand and shook it. You introduced yourself, including your major.

“Nice to meet you,” Sunghoon said, adjusting the cuffs of his blazer. “God, Heeseung hates you.”

“What?”

Jake shook his hands, glancing between you and Sunghoon. He laughed nervously. “Well, he doesn’t hate y-,”

“Two members in a fight,” Sunghoon continued, “our newest recruit living in Fawcett because he picked a fight with Jay about you, Sunoo poisoning the lacrosse team…”

You squinted. “That last one…”

“At this point, Heeseung’s sort of just blaming you for everything,” Sunghoon said with a shrug. “But the first two are your fault.”

“Hey,” Jake said, stepping in between the two of you. You hadn’t sensed any real malice coming from Sunghoon, so you weren’t sure why Jake was acting so skittish. “None of that is her fault. It’s not her fault Jay has a hate boner for her.”

Sunghoon put his hands up, relenting. “Hey, hey, I’m not blaming her. I’m just saying that Heeseung wants her head on a pike.”

“Then he should say so,” you said.

Jake and Sunghoon both looked at you, with Sunghoon snorting as he attempted to stifle a laugh. “Pardon?” Sunghoon asked, pushing his glasses up.

“Yeah,” you said. “Maybe we could talk. If I’m doing something wrong, I should fix it, right?”

Sunghoon let out a full laugh. “She’s got balls, huh, Jake?”

Jake groaned. “Let’s just go get a smoothie. Everything is always a federal fucking issue with the Karmas, I swear…” Jake started stalking over to the entrance of Stopkewich, with you and Sunghoon following behind.

“I hope that bitch isn’t there,” Sunghoon said, screwing up his nose. “I wanted a simple smoothie and she wouldn’t make it. She was all, ‘Um, I don’t do remixes on drinks!’ Uppity whore. Who calls a drink a remix? Cringe. I should fucking have this place demolished and turned into a Carl’s Jr. See how those vegans like it then.”

“Don’t pick a fight with the barista, Hoon.”

“I won’t if she makes my smoothie order the way I asked.”

“And what was that smoothie order, again?” Jake asked lightly. He looked back and gave you a small smile. You liked it. It made you feel like you were in on something.

“It was simple. Chia seeds, organic almond milk because regular milk fucks with my skin’s barrier, camu camu powder - from the Amazon, it’s the best there - red algae for my complexion, goji berries, spinach, and maca powder. Like it wasn’t a very tall order but this uppity- oh fuck, there she is.” Sunghoon jerked his thumb at Lily and groaned. “God fucking dammit.”

“You’d better go ahead first,” Jake said. “Sunghoon here has to decompress.”

“‘Uh, we don’t have any red algae,’” Sunghoon mocked. “‘Why would you want algae in a smoothie?’”

You headed over to the counter, where Lily was currently using a pitter on the cherries. Her gloved hands were stained red. She glanced up at you briefly and smiled. “Hey,” she said brightly. “I thought you would have abandoned me.”

“No way. How could I do that?” You settled into a booth and scoured the menu. You figured you’d just have whatever she gave you.

Lily tossed another cherry pit into a bowl. “Well, I saw that you were partying with the KC…”

You blinked. “How did you see that?”

“Oh, I follow what’s-her-name on Instagram…Isa? She posted a picture of you guys on her story. I didn’t know you were so popular.”

“Neither did I,” you mumbled. “What’s on the menu today?”

Lily smiled and held up the cherries. “Funny you should ask. I’ve just gotten the last ingredient for my newest idea. So it’s going to be cherries, banana, chia seeds, almond butter, almond milk…”

“So far so good.”

“Stinging nettle.”

“Lily…”

Lily procured a baggie from her apron’s pocket and shook it. “What? It’s perfectly safe! It’s not like it-,”

“Well, well, well,” a voice behind you said. Sunghoon snatched the stinging nettle from Lily’s hands and examined its contents.

“You,” she said, glaring at Sunghoon. “This is the guy who got mad at me because I don’t do remixes.”

“And here’s the girl who doesn’t do remixes.” He tapped the baggie with his index finger. “But, you know, I can’t help but notice that this…herb…isn’t on the menu. Yet here you are, about to put it into a drink that isn’t on the menu. Isn’t that crazy? Isn’t that crazy, Jake?”

“Leave me out of this,” Jake said. “Can I get the watermelon mint smoothie?”

“Coming right up,” Lily said through gritted teeth. “For your information, I was testing a recipe out, that’s why I have that.”

“Sure,” Sunghoon said, “sure. Or the more obvious answer, which is that you’re prejudiced against members of the KC.”

Lily gasped. “Not true!” She peeled her old gloves off, got new ones, and started putting chunks of watermelon in the blender.

Sunghoon shook the baggie even though Lily couldn’t see it. “Oh, it’s very true.”

“I’m making Jake a smoothie right now, he’s KC.”

“Jake is Australian, so you two probably have some sort of secret bond. He doesn’t count.”

“What the fuck,” Jake mumbled.

Lily scoffed. “And also for your information, I didn’t have the ingredients!”

Sunghoon shook the baggie again. “And why wasn’t your kitchen stocked with the basics?”

“Normally,” Lily said, tossing things into the blender, “people don’t ask for camu camu powder. Never gotten that request before.”

“You should buy more ingredients then,” Sunghoon said, putting the baggie on the counter. “You could offer a wider selection of drinks that have added health benefits.”

“And where am I supposed to get the extra money?” Lily turned the blender on. “No one knows we’re here, anyways. They’re considering replacing us with a Jamba Juice.”

“I’ll give you the ingredients,” Sunghoon yelled over the harsh noise.

“You want your weird smoothie that bad?” Lily asked, holding onto the top of the blender.

“Yeah, I do.”

“You know what?” Lily pointed at Sunghoon. “I can respect a guy who wants a weird smoothie.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Thank you! Thank you! That pauper over there doesn’t get it.”

“What the fuck,” Jake whispered to himself.

“Sorry for being so rude,” Sunghoon said, projecting his voice. “I really did think you were being a bitch for no reason.”

Lily turned the blender off and poured Jake’s smoothie into a glass jar, carefully affixing a little red gingham bow around its neck. “Thanks for the apology,” she said, pushing the smoothie over to Jake. She looked at you next. “Did you want the stinging nettle and cherry smoothie?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said.

Jake sipped on his smoothie through the straw. “Oh, this is good,” he said, holding the jar out to you. “Try a sip.”

You’d had this flavour before, but you took a sip anyway. “Lily is great,” you said, “that’s why I always come here.”

Sunghoon remained quiet, pressing his hands on the counter, before saying, “Could I get one too, a stinging nettle and cherry smoothie?”

Lily smiled. “Of course!”

Sunghoon offered her a soft smile, his lips pressed tightly together. He watched her closely as she went about preparing the smoothies. Jake looked at you, and you looked at Jake. He mimed shooting himself in the head and you grinned.

After Lily finished making you and Sunghoon your drinks, you looked at her expectantly. “Could I get your phone number?”

She looked at you in mild surprise. “Really? Yeah, sure. Pass your phone.”

You opened the phone up to your contacts and held it out to her. As she typed her number in, she smiled. “We should hang sometime.”

“Yeah,” you said. You had no intention of hanging out with her. You did plan to wheedle information out of her regarding Mina. Despite Riki telling you that no one knew about her suicide attempt in the bathroom, Lily had mentioned an attempted murder performed by the KC in the school bathroom. Who could the victim have been, if not Mina?

Lily handed you your phone back and grinned. Jake tapped his card on the reader, paying for your orders. “Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said. “I said I would.”

“I was just kidding about it at the party, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to buy you smoothies,” Jake said. “Just let me try yours when it’s ready.”

Lily got to work preparing her newest mix, and you noticed that Sunghoon was staring at her with curious eyes. When he saw you looking at him, he cleared his throat and focused his attention on his wristwatch. Strange, strange things were happening.

–

You got to your dorm room and started on your work. You were a scholarship student, so it was imperative that you kept your grades up. Which meant that you ended up ignoring the incessant knocking on your dorm door. Eventually, you heard the doorknob rattling violently. You pulled your headphones off and knocked on the door. “Who is it?”

“Open up,” Jay grumbled. “Don’t you answer your phone? I’ve been out here for like five minutes.” Sighing, you unlocked your door. Jay strided in, closing the door behind himself. He leaned against the door with his arms crossed and glanced around your room. “What were you doing, homework?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course you are,” he said.

“You don’t study?”

“Why would I do that?”

You let out a frustrated huff of breath. “What do you want, Jay?”

“‘What do you want, Jay?’” he mocked. A familiar scene was stretching out in front of you. “I want more of what I got yesterday, but you were busy hanging around dickless.”

You leaned against the wall. “Dickless? Who, Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t stop,” you said. “You don’t own me, and we’re not dating.”

Jay barked out a laugh. “Oh, wow. Since when do you talk back?”

“Around when you threatened to kill me.”

Jay’s eyes were chunks of obsidian glinting in the afternoon sun. “You know I was just playing around, right? I wasn’t actually going to kill you. I’m not a psycho. I just wanted…”

Suddenly, the room seemed stiflingly warm. Your voice was even quieter than usual. “Wanted what?”

“I wanted…” Jay pushed his hair out of his face and licked his lips, looking around your room. “I wanted to see you do something besides stand around looking at me like you’re…like there’s nothing inside of you. Just an automaton pretending to be a human, just taking everything, passive, nothing, boring.”

“Well,” you said flatly, “am I acting like a human now?”

Jay cracked a grin. “A little. You’re blossoming under my tutelage. With a little more training…” Jay reached his hand out towards you.

You smacked his hand away lightly. “Training?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking your hand in his, “you could end up becoming a real human.”

“Like you?”

His smile grew wider. “Nah, you could never be like me.”

“Thank God.”

Jay laughed, and you had to admit that you didn’t hate the sound. “See what I mean? You’re coming along nicely.”

“You’re not responsible for my personality,” you said.

“Who, if not me? Jake?”

“No, no one is. What is with you and Jake?”

“I could ask you the same question, you and your filthy fixation with him.”

“There is no fixation,” you said, frustration nipping at your voice. “He’s just nice to me.”

Jay pulled you towards him with the hand holding yours. “I’m nice to you, aren’t I?” His other hand came to grab your chin, forcing your head up. “I’m so nice to you,” he murmured. “You don’t even appreciate it.” He leaned in and kissed you in that same smothering manner as before, his mouth hot and wet. As though you were being controlled by outside forces, you kissed him back. Your arms still hung limply against your side.

Jay pulled away and tugged your turtleneck’s collar down, exposing the hickeys he had given you. “Wish you didn’t dress like a nun,” he said. “You could show these off.”

You turned your head, staring down at your floor. “What about Isa, Jay? You two are together.”

Jay groaned. “Don’t worry about her. Fuck, you always bring her up.”

You looked back at him. “Why shouldn’t I? She really likes you.”

“Her mistake,” Jay replied, a sneer on his face. His hand reached out to caress the back of your head. “I told you she doesn’t matter to me.”

“And who does?”

Jay didn’t answer at first. Instead, he spun you around so that you were pressed against the door. He kissed you with the same ferocity, hands clutching your shoulders. “Don’t talk about Isa,” he said hoarsely.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you said, a weak appeal.

Jay groaned. “Fine. Let’s play a game, then. It’s really simple. You wanna hear the rules?”

“Fine.”

His hand hiked your skirt up, all the way to your waist. The other hand rested on your thigh, dangerously close to your underwear. “If I check and you’re wet, I get to fuck you. If you’re not wet, I’ll leave you alone and go weave baskets and pick daisies with Isa. Deal?”

You nodded. “Sure,” you said, as though he wouldn’t be able to feel the moisture pooling between your legs. Maybe he wouldn’t feel anything through a stroke of sheer luck. Jay slipped two of his fingers inside of your panties, and you winced as you heard a squelching noise.

“Look at that. You’re wet,” Jay said in an accusatory voice. Jay dragged his fingers along your labial lips, smearing your arousal. He didn’t plunge his fingers into your desperate pussy, nor did he touch your clitoris. Judging by his smile, he relished in withholding pleasure from you. “You’re soaking wet just from a few kisses. You couldn’t be more pathetic if you tried.”

The constant teasing at relief was driving you mad. “Just fuck me.”

Jay let out a breathy laugh. “Look at you, getting so bold. Just listen to yourself.” He didn’t allow you any time to reflect on his statement, working on tugging your panties and skirt all the way down. You stepped out of them, kicking them to the side.

“You haven’t changed me,” you said, eyebrows glowering in defiance.

“You’ll see,” Jay replied. You closed your eyes so you could hear the rattle of his belt buckle as it clicked, the sound of his jeans sliding to the floor, his soft grunts.

Jay lifted your leg up and pounded you, your back pressed against the door. It creaked loudly enough that you figured that someone would hear, but Fawcett was a loud dorm. “Pussy’s so good,” Jay whispered through gritted teeth, leaning his head back. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Thought I would have fucked you loose by now.”

It was almost more than you could handle, considering only a mere 12 hours had passed since the last time. But you were already growing to love how Jay felt inside of you, the aggressive way he snapped his hips, the shapes of the bruises he left on your arms. You clamped your hand over your mouth so your moans would be muffled. Jay had a similar idea, biting his lip and only letting out faint grunts. He lifted your other leg up, utilizing strength you didn’t know he had to fuck into you while he was standing. Your arms hung around his neck.

You wrapped your legs around him, and he carried you away from the door and onto the bed. By now, you had noticed that Jay liked to alternate between fucking into you rapidly and employing hard, somewhat slower strokes. The shift was dizzying; your nails dug into his shirt, leaving miniscule holes behind in the fabric.

After Jay came, he remained on top of you, his limp cock lying on your thigh. He pushed himself off and crawled to the side of the bed facing the window.

You rolled away from Jay, reaching into your nightstand’s drawer. You pulled out your pack of cigarettes and took one out.

“Give me one,” he called from behind you.

“Sure. Open the window for me.” Jay lifted the window upwards, and chilly air wafted into the room. You tucked yourself under your blanket, scooted towards the window, and lit your cigarettes. You handed one to Jay and placed your own between your lips. Your dorm room faced the woods, so you generally didn’t see people come around. On nights when the weather was bad and you couldn’t go up to the roof, you liked to open the window and smoke, listening to the rain.

Jay sat upright, smoking his own cigarette. His eyebrows were knit in concentration.

Your phone buzzed on your desk, so you clambered to your feet. You opened the text as you headed to your bed.

Riki: help

Riki: my girlfriend is trying out her makeup on me :/

Riki: *sent 1 picture*

Riki: i kinda fw it tbqh

You: You look very pretty.

Riki: thank u

You: You have a girlfriend?

Riki: o yeah

Riki: don’t tell anyone lmao

Riki: it’s a secret like not even jake knows

Riki: i don’t want her getting mina’d

Riki: or you’d

Riki: no offense

You: None taken.

Riki: 👍

Riki: lowk i’m considering using some bb cream now

Riki: could be a good look for me

You: Go talk to your girlfriend or something. I’m busy.

Riki: busy my ass

Riki: and my gf is on her phone looking at tiktok pranks to torture me with

You: You deserve the misery.

Riki: fuck u 🖕

Riki: betrayal can never come from your opps ig

“Who are you texting?” Jay asked. “I didn’t know you had friends.”

“Riki,” you said, turning your phone off.

“Riki? You’re friends with Riki?” Jay looked incredulous, his cigarette hanging from his lips.

You shrugged, holding your cigarette between your lips as you laid back down on your bed. It was a no-smoking building, but a part of you just couldn’t be bothered anymore. “Well, ‘friends’ is a strong word. We’ve known each other for a few days. He just texts a lot.”

Jay took another long drag, blowing it out of the window. “You guys are around the same age, right?”

“Yeah, same year.”

“Hm.” Jay turned to look at you. “Have you met any other Karmas?”

“Sunghoon, Jungwon briefly…that’s it.” You breathed out more smoke. “Heeseung hates me, apparently.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jay said, “Ha. Yeah, he doesn’t like you. Thinks you’re tearing us apart.”

“But I’m not.”

“Yeah, I know that, and you know that, and even Heeseung knows that. I think it’s because he can’t exhume Mina’s dead body and yell at her for corrupting poor little Jakey, so you’re the next best thing.”

Your eyes were focused on Jay now, on his hunched back, on his serious brows. “You think Mina’s dead?”

“Dropped out of school, disappeared off the face of the earth, her friends all left her behind…she’s probably dead, yeah.” After a moment, he said, “Do I sound terrible?”

You shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

Jay smiled again. “I guess so.” He waved his cigarette, now only a smouldering nub. “Where can I put this out? On you again?”

You reached under your bed and pulled out a small ceramic dish, already scattered with cigarette butts. “Use this.”

He stubbed his cigarette out. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

You gave him a quick little nod and watched him zip his pants up, put his belt back on, smooth out his hair. Without another word, he left your room.

–

You decided to call Lily rather than texting her. You had found, through texting with Riki, that you largely preferred talking out loud. Pacing around the room, you waited for her to pick up.

“Hey,” she said, her voice sounding lighter than usual.

“Hi. I had to ask you a question.”

“Sure, anything.”

You tried to invoke the same nonchalant tone you normally used, but you found that it was strangely difficult. “Last week, you told me that the Karma Club nearly killed a girl in the bathroom…”

“Oh,” she said. “That was just a silly rumour…groundless…” Lily’s voice faded as she spoke, almost sheepishly.

“Do you know who told you?”

“Why do you ask?”

You already had a lie for this. “You know how Jake brought me that smoothie?”

Lily’s voice immediately took on interest, and you marveled at how similar she was to Isa. “Yeah…?”

“Well, the thing is, he told me he likes me…”

Lily shrieked. “Aw, that is so cute. Jake is like the nicest - well, you know, there are a few nice ones in the KC, but he’s really nice. That is just adorable, oh my god.”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you,” you added.

“Not a word out of me. So do you guys have, like, a thing?”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to pursue anything before I know he’s good,” you lied, scratching your head. “You know how cautious I am.”

“Oh, I get it, I get it,” Lily said. “Sure. I think I heard that from this girl named Nina? She’s a year below me. She’s Aussie, which is how I know her…She’s nice. If you have any questions about him, you should ask her. She runs the girl’s gaming club. You know where that is?”

“No.”

“Oh. It’s held in Nakashima’s common room. You can probably find out when they meet from the school website.”

“Thanks, Lily.” You paused, figuring that you had to ask her something. So you didn’t seem suspicious. “So…stinging nettle. Why?”

“Fun fact, actually. Stinging nettle is a galactagogue!”

“What’s a galactagogue?”

“Uh, increases breast milk production.”

“I’m going to hang up on you now, Lily.”

Lily laughed, and you did too. “Hey, you wanna hang out sometime? Like, for real?”

Out of anyone in the school, you would prefer to hang out with Lily the most. You desperately hoped that she didn’t get involved in the Karma Club. “What would we do?”

“I haven’t gone to see a movie in a while. You?”

“I pirate everything, so no.”

“Sooo…” You could practically hear Lily creeping towards you with a silly smile pasted on her face. “We should see one together. Something scary.”

“Sounds good. Text me when you’re free.”

“Great! Have a good night.”

“You too, Lily.” You hung up on her and your smile fell. The true reason for your call dawned on you once more, and now you had to do some research. First, you Googled the word you had been dreading: naloxone. Jay had mentioned watching the paramedics administer it to Mina when she had overdosed. When you searched it up, you found that it was an opioid antagonist. In the case of anti-psychotic overdose, particularly Seroquel, activated charcoal was used as treatment. So either Jay had misremembered, Jay had lied, or Jay didn’t know.

Why would Jay lie about that? But then, it was Jay. Nothing he did made sense. You couldn’t go to Riki for help, either, because he didn’t know what Mina had overdosed on. Jake hadn’t even mentioned Mina’s suicide, so he definitely couldn’t help you. None of the three had mentioned opioids. It was a dead end.

You moved on to finding out when the gaming club met next: That Friday at 6 pm. Anyone could come, apparently. Perfect. You wondered if Jay liked gaming.

At any rate, you had exhausted your meager resources. All you could do now was wait for Friday.

–

The week passed by largely the same way. You would wake up to a barrage of texts from Riki and Lily, tiredly answer them, and trudge to class. Then you would go to the library, watch Isa coo over Jay while he ignored you, and get picked up by Jake to get a smoothie from Stopkewich. Sunghoon notably only showed up when Lily had a shift there and did nothing but stare at her adoringly. You and Jake would make eye contact every time Sunghoon smiled at her, mimicking his lovesick expression. Jake’s eye healed well, and his face became less painful to look at for more than one reason. The more time you spent with Jake, trying each other’s drinks, the more you realized that you didn’t mind him.

After talking to Jake, you would go to your room, try to do homework, and answer the knock at the door. Jay would come in, you would protest for the sake of doing so, and then you’d fuck. He stayed for longer and longer every time, his scent beginning to permeate your bed already, down to the mattress. You wouldn’t talk very much, which suited you just fine. You’d just stare at the ceiling. Occasionally, he would complain about something Riki or Jungwon did. He never brought up Jake or Isa, so neither did you.

On Thursday, you were both lying in your bed, naked. You were draped in your quilt while he blew cigarette smoke to the ceiling.

“You’re not cold?” you asked, forgoing smoking your own cigarette for today. You didn’t feel like it, for some reason. When you smacked your lips together, you could taste the strawberry banana smoothie one of the other barista’s had made on your lips. Jay had commented on it when he kissed you, saying that you tasted sweet.

“I don’t get cold that easily,” Jay said.

“Oh.”

“If you want me to join you under there, just say so.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Jay shrugged. “Closed mouths don’t get fed.”

“Implying that you’re a necessity?”

“Some could say that, yeah.”

“Some could be mentally ill.”

“Like you’re so sane,” Jay said, jabbing his cigarette in your direction. “Sunoo could fix your ass up nicely. He might end up giving you diarrhea, though. It’s a mixed bag with him. Still worth a shot, though.”

Sunoo…why hadn’t you considered him?

You pulled your phone from the nightstand and opened it up.

You: Riki.

Riki: hey

Riki: you finally changed your mind about cliffside laser tag?

You: No.

Riki: then there’s no reason for you to text me

You: I need to know which room Sunoo is in.

Riki: why lol

You: Decided to develop a drug dependency

Riki: nooooo you have so much life to live

Riki: noooooooooo don’t do it

Riki: well

Riki: that covers my ass

Riki: you can’t get mad at me when your life falls apart

Riki: he’s in room 24

Riki: i’m in 22 by the way

Riki: in case you ever change your mind about the slap jenga tournament

You: I won’t.

Riki: i never liked you

You: Thanks for the help.

Riki: 🖕

Riki: seriously though be careful

You: I’ll be okay.

Riki: you’d better

“Texting Riki again?” Jay asked. His gaze danced suspiciously between your phone and your face.

“Yeah.” You put your phone back on your nightstand.

“About?”

You shrugged and leaned against the headboard, bringing your heavy quilt around your shoulders. “He wants to try cliffside laser tag in the dark.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Jay groaned. “Are you going to go?”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

“Well, I mean…”

“No.” You tried to ignore Jay’s snickers. “No, I didn’t even consider it.”

Jay leaned back as well, seeming somewhat mollified. “That kid is going to get himself killed doing something stupid one day. Or someone else, honestly.”

“Then he’d be a true member of the Karma Club,” you said jokingly. Jay’s jaw tightened, and the hairs on your arms raised. You hadn’t seen that angry look in his eyes in nearly a week.

“Look. You might think,” he began, his voice as venomous as it had always been. You realized that you hadn’t even noticed that his voice had softened until now. “You might think that because we fuck that we’re close or something. We’re not. Joke about shit like that again and I swear to God, I’ll-,”

“You’ll what?”

Jay grabbed your shoulder, jostling the quilt covering you. His grip was tight, and his eyes sparked with anger. “I’ll make sure you end up just like Mina. How’s that?”

You swallowed, unable to speak. Your eyes were trained on his other hand, and you realized just how stupid you had been, allowing yourself to be lulled into this stupor by him. Jay still hated you.

Jay let go of you and made a frustrated noise. “Fuck, fuck. Fuck, I hate it when you do that. Play mute.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now,” you replied.

“I thought we made progress,” Jay said, putting his cigarette behind his ear. “You were really growing a spine there, making jokes, fighting back. You were starting to be a lot of fun.”

You stared at Jay, and the unfamiliar sensation of anger broiled in your stomach. “For someone who doesn’t believe that people can change,” you said slowly, “you sure are trying to change me.”

“That’s different,” Jay insisted, crawling out of your bed. He pulled his boxers up and fixed his shirt. “There’s a very interesting girl in you begging to be let out, and all you have to do is give in.”

Your eyes locked with his, the anger in his a mirror of your own. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know enough,” Jay said slowly, tilting his head even closer.

“No,” you whispered, “you don’t.”

Jay’s lips brushed yours, ever-so-slightly, his eyes never straying away from yours. “It’s like I said. It’s already inside you, and all you have to do is just…let her out.” His breath ghosted your lips once more before he briefly closed the gap.

–

Jay didn’t come to the library on Friday.

“He got busy,” Isa said sadly, flicking away some lint off of her ripped sweater. “Family stuff.” The two of you were pasting barcodes on the backs of books, spreading the thin paper carefully to avoid ripples. You put a thin piece of plastic over top to protect the code. Easy, monotonous work.

“Oh.” Quickly, you added. “That sucks.”

“Yeah…he’s been so distant recently,” she continued, idly flipping through a new YA romance novel. “Ever since the party, or a little before then…can I be a little TMI?”

“Go for it,” you said.

Isa put the book down carefully, and you could see her bottom lip tremble. Her eyes fell to the floor and her voice was a mere whisper. “He doesn’t touch me. Like, we’ve done some…stuff. And, you know, it was nice. But that was it. Nothing serious, you know? I mean, we’ve been talking on and off for a month, but he hasn’t initiated anything.”

Guilt filled your mouth with the bitter edge of bile. Isa reached for the sheet of codes before laying her hands flat on the table. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she said. “I’m trying to be patient with him, but he doesn’t even open up to me.”

You should come clean, admit that Jay had been fucking you, but you remembered that he told you not to utter a word to anyone. Isa might run behind your back and confront him, which would be disastrous for you. And, worst of all, a part of you felt a certain thrill at being the one he chose. In some capacity, he was picking you.

Reality struck you once more. He wasn’t picking you. Isa was the one he had chosen to be his girlfriend, or at least the woman with whom he could be seen. You were the one he slept with, like a secret rotting away in a dusty attic. He hated you, no matter how he felt about Isa.

Isa glanced at you, biting her lip, and you realized that you hadn’t said anything. “I’m sorry,” you said finally.

She mustered up a small smile and shook her head, her red curls flicking back and forth like a flame. “It’s okay,” she replied. “Thanks for listening. I’d tell my friends but I’d feel pathetic telling them.” Her eyes widened. “Not that I don’t see you as a friend or anything…”

You smiled back at her, resting your hand on her shoulder. “I know what you meant.”

Isa patted your hand. “Thanks, pookie. You’re a good listener. We should hang out again soon. It was so fun when we watched Oldboy and Lady Vengeance.”

“Actually,” you said slowly, “Lily wanted to watch a movie with me. Do you know her?”

Isa brightened, seeming to regain some of her buoyancy. “Yeah, we were in second year philosophy together. Yeah, I know her. Oh, that’s great. I’ll make a group chat for us!” Then she bit her lip. “I wonder if she’ll want to hang with me, though?”

“Don’t worry,” you said. “Everyone does.”

–

Nakashima’s dorm was unlike the others. It was the newest, a tall, sleek, bauhaus white building with a gray stone path leading inside. To the left, obscured by a hill, was the school’s greenhouse. You would have liked to explore the inside, but it was normally staffed by at least 3 bleary-eyed, surly students, so you didn’t bother.

As you walked inside, you marveled at the change in atmosphere. Your own dorm seemed carefree, Stopkewich had an airiness, and Stoker managed to avoid feeling stiflingly opulent with its small markers of humanity. Nakashima students all bustled around with their heads tucked low. The common room was on the second floor, so you took the translucent glass steps carefully. It was down a hallway lined with achievements garnered from previous Nakashima students. Self-fellatio was a skill honed into an art at Sadame University, it seemed.

You never went inside of Fawcett’s common room, so you weren’t sure how it looked. Nakashima’s was lined with computers, expensive gaming chairs, and a vending machine in the corner. The main lights were turned off, so the glow from their keyboards and the purple LED strips lining the walls was what illuminated the space.

The Nakashima girls in the common room dressed in the ubiquitous STEM student uniform of a hoodie and sweatpants or jeans. You had arrived early, but they were already logging onto the computers. A woman wearing a white Sadame sweatshirt who, based on your surveyal of the gaming club’s page, was Nina, hunched over a monitor as another woman sat in the chair. You waited for Nina to finish helping the other student before you approached her.

“Are you Nina?” you asked quietly.

Nina smiled at you. “That’s me! Are you here to join the gaming club?”

“Ah…no, sorry,” you said, watching the smile falter on her face. “No, I’m here because of something else.”

She frowned. “Something else?”

You nodded.

“You wanna talk outside?” With another nod of your head, she ushered you out into the hallway and looked at you expectantly.

“It’s just…a friend of mine told me that…you knew about what happened with that girl, Mina,” you said slowly. “And, I was wondering how you knew, because, um…”

“Because the Karma Club cover everything up,” Nina finished.

“Right, that.”

“Because they’re a bunch of fucking assholes who treat everyone, especially women, like shit.”

“Yeah…”

Nina placed her hand on your shoulder. “Did they…hurt you?”

Now that was a question for the ages. “Yeah.”

Nina pursed her lips together and sighed. “Another one. Those bastards…look, there’s a group chat I know of. If you give me your Instagram-,”

“I don’t have one.”

“Really? How?”

You shrugged.

“Well, go ahead and make one. I’ll give you mine…” Nina pulled a blue pen from her pocket, took the palm of your hand, and scribbled her Instagram’s handle on it. “So once you’ve made an account, DM me, and I’ll have you added.”

You stared at your palm. “What’s the group chat for?”

Nina capped the pen and tucked it behind her ear. “For victims of the Karma Creeps. It started shortly after Mina disappeared. Just make sure to keep it DL, okay? Those weirdos have eyes everywhere in this school, but I’m sure you already know that.”

Did you ever? “Thank you, Nina.”

“Also,” she added hastily, “don’t screenshot anything. We don’t need anything leaking, you know? It might seem really stringent, but we can’t let anything get back to them.”

“Makes sense,” you said softly.

“I heard that they’re planning on compiling all the information, maybe trying to bring it to the local news,” she continued. “Again, don’t bring that up.”

“I won’t.”

Nina smiled at you. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get you some help.”

When you walked away from her, you realized that she had never asked you for your name.

–

As you were walking back to the Fawcett campus, holding your palm face down, you got a call. It was Jay. For a second, you felt stricken by guilt, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You answered the call.

“Open the door,” Jay said, exasperated. “Seriously, I’m starting to feel stupid standing out here.”

“I’m not in my room.”

“Are you avoiding me?”

“No,” you said. “I had to talk to someone about a project.”

“You can do that literally any other time,” Jay said. He lowered his voice; from the background chatter, you could tell that people were walking in the hallway. “I need you right now. I had the shittiest day and Isa wants me to watch some braindead movie with her.”

“Just have sex with Isa,” you said, your voice equally as quiet.

Jay shifted. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Then she’ll think I’m serious.”

“So why won’t you break up with her?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jay said.

“Right,” you replied dryly. “I could never hope to understand the complexities of your mind.”

“First of all, that wasn’t as cutting as you thought it was. Second of all, I think that was the longest sentence I’ve heard you say. So touching. Like seeing a dog learn how to use its legs again after a car accident. I could cry.”

“Then cry.”

“Just shut up and get over here,” Jay said. “I hate being in Fawcett too long.”

You stopped, halting near a warehouse. Belatedly, you realized that it was the same building where you had seen Jay for the first time. The wall was plain, but for some reason you had expected to see a garish, red bloodstain.

“Hello? You still there?”

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry,” you said.

“Yeah, you’re a goody-two-shoes who thinks she’ll go to heaven if she gets good grades, it’s fine.”

“Not that. I’m sorry I said that yesterday. You know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gruffly. “You know me. The tiniest thing annoys me. Didn’t think about it after you said it.”

“Sorry anyways.”

Jay fell silent as well. Just as you had assumed that he had forgotten to hang up, he said, “Yeah, well. Me too. Now come here and show me how sorry you are.”

You smiled, just slightly. “Be there in 5.”

“Make it three.”

“Not possible.”

“Well, come as soon as you can, then.” He hung up on you, and you walked just the slightest bit faster. Just enough that you could convince yourself that you hadn’t.

Just before you got to your room, you wrote Nina’s username into your notes app. Then you licked your hand, smearing the letters until they were an incomprehensible blur.

–

After he fucked you, Jay sprawled onto your bed, as if attempting to take up as much room as possible. You were lying on top of his arm on his right side, too lazy to even get the quilt to cover yourself up.

“God,” he breathed out. “I almost forgot about how shit today was.”

You stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “What happened?”

Jay scoffed. “You don’t give a shit.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

Neither of you spoke for a full minute.

“Just…it’s Jake,” Jay said finally. “Can I get a smoke?”

You reached over to your cigarette package, realizing that you only had two left. You handed one to him and took one for yourself. “Need to get more.”

“Remind me to get some,” Jay said, gesturing for the lighter. He lit yours, then his, then handed the lighter back to you. “It’s Jake. He’s doing his ‘wahh, wahh, everyone wants me to be the nice one’ routine. Saying that the pressure of having boyish good looks, good grades, and being rich is just too much for him.”

You reached below your bed to get your makeshift ashtray. “He seems normal to me.”

“Yeah, because if he knows if you saw him for the spineless dick he was, you wouldn’t want to fuck him anymore,” Jay said.

“I don’t want to fuck him.”

“What? You don’t want Jakey in you?” Jay asked with a snicker.

You laughed quietly. “Not when you’ve already had him.”

“Fuck off,” Jay said, lightly pushing you. ”Even if Jake were the only hole left in the world, I’d never touch him.”

“A very convincing vindication of your heterosexuality.”

Rolling his eyes, Jay took a long drag. “I just don’t know. Everyone worships Jake, anyways. Even if people think he’s a dick, he’s still not as bad as the rest of us.”

“So what, do you wish people liked you?”

“No, God no,” Jay said. “I just wish I didn’t have to see Jake have a meltdown every month because he hates that everyone loves him. Or that he loves that everyone loves him, I can’t keep up with his shit.”

You blew smoke out of your mouth, closing your eyes. “This doesn’t seem like enough to constitute being a shitty day.”

“Oh, trust me,” Jay said. “It is. Heeseung shuts everything down to take care of Jake. Got a lecture from Heeseung…and then my parents called, nagging and shit…I have to go redo my statistics test…and then Isa wants to watch White Girls or Mean Chicks, something like that…and my dog wasn’t there when I needed her.”

“You have a dog?”

Jay smirked at you. “I do. She’s quiet, isn’t very well-trained yet, but I’m working on it. She’s very good at coming when I call for her, though.”

You turned away from him and took an annoyed little drag. “I’m not a dog.”

“What was that? All I heard was ‘woof woof woof’,” Jay said, reaching out and turning your head towards his.

“Jay, y-,”

“Bark, bark, bark.”

“Jay.”

“Grrr.”

“Shut up.”

Pulling his cigarette out of his mouth, Jay blew smoke into your face gently. “Make me shut up.”

You had a feeling you knew where this was going. You reached over, placed your cigarette on the nightstand, and lowered your lips onto his.

Jay broke the kiss, the tip of his nose still rubbing against yours. “Good doggy,” Jay whispered before leaning in to kiss you again.

–

On Saturday, you had already steeled your nerves and decided to head into Stoker early in the morning. Jay had offhandedly mentioned that he hated getting out of bed before noon, and you could only pray that Jake wasn’t around.

As you walked to Stoker, bundled in your coat, you noticed that something was different. A niggling feeling in the back of your neck. Trudging along the path, you heard a voice telling you slow down. You turned and saw a girl you had never once seen before, with bouncy brown curls. A group of people, presumably her friends, lingered a few meters away.

“Hey,” she said, voice bright and chirpy, “that skirt is so cute, oh my god. Where did you get it?”

You’d gone through this song and dance before. When you were younger, sometimes people would ask you where you had bought your shabby clothes, knowing fully well that you were too poor to buy them at full price. “Thrifted,” you said brusquely.

“That is so cool,” she said. “Thrifting is so much fun. I can never find anything good, though.”

What were you supposed to say? “Oh.”

“Where do you go thrifting?”

“My hometown,” you said.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go thrifting here, either,” she said. “Nothing good.”

You said that already, you thought. Instead, you said, “I guess.”

“I’ve always loved your style,” she continued. “Whenever I see you, I’m like, oh, that is so grungecore.”

“Thanks, but I have to meet someone,” you said, jerking your thumb at Stoker.

“Oh, of course. Have a good one,” she said before waving and walking back towards her friends. What an earnest attempt at bullying.

You walked into Stoker, wiping your shoes off on the plush welcome mat. To the right was the restaurant and dining area, so you glanced over. You could see Riki standing in line, checking his phone.

You: Look at the doors.

Riki lifted his head, saw you, and grinned. He waved you over, so you entered the dining area. The few people who were eating looked at you as you walked in, and you forced yourself to look straight at Riki.

“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Sunoo,” you said. “Is he awake?”

Riki nodded. “Sunoo always gets up early.”

“How come you’re up?”

“I’m going to go to the gym early,” he explained. “My girlfriend wants to watch that new horror movie.”

“The one with the ghosts that can possess you if you’re the same zodiac sign as them?”

Riki grinned. “Fuck yeah.”

“Lily, Isa, and I are seeing that tonight,” you said. Isa had very neatly arranged it in the new group chat she had created. It was the first group chat you had ever been in, and even though you barely spoke while the pair planned the outing, it still felt nice to be included.

Riki had been checking on his order, but his eyes widened in surprise. “What showing?”

“8:30 pm.”

He visibly relaxed, putting a hand over his heart. “Good. We’re going at 6.” You didn’t say that you had vetoed a potential 6 pm showing because that was when Jay would knock on your door.

“No spoilers,” you said.

“Swear on my heart,” Riki said.

“Good.” You stuffed your hands into your coat pocket. “By the way, I got bullied today.”

“Jay again?”

“No, some girl. She asked me where I got my skirt,” you explained.

Riki stared at you, dumbfounded. “So she liked your skirt.”

“No,” you said. “Haven’t you ever had someone ask where you got your clothes, but it was meant in a…demeaning way?”

“No, generally guys will just say, ‘Your shirt is ugly and you get no hoes’,” Riki said, shaking his head. “Girls complicate things too much. She probably really did just like your skirt. It’s nice.”

You looked down. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I like your fashion sense.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, okay? You enjoy your…”

“Breakfast burrito,” Riki said. “I’m going to tear this shit up, hit the gym, pass out, beg Sunoo for an edible so I can watch that movie zooted, pass out again…”

“Good plan.”

“The best,” Riki said. “See you later.”

–

You knocked on Sunoo’s door falteringly. You had never actually seen the guy, but the descriptions of him you had been given thus far were scary. You wondered if he were as tall as Riki, or imposing and muscular?

The door opened, and a gentle face with plush cheeks and soft lips peered at you. Sunoo was wearing a baby-blue baseball tee with black accents. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” you said, caught off-guard. You introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” Sunoo said, sticking his hand out. You shook it, bewildered by his smile. “I’m Sunoo. Riki’s been talking about you.”

“Has he?”

“Mhm! He says he’s happy to have a friend his own age.”

“Well,” you said. “He’s a nice friend to have.”

Sunoo beamed at you. “How sweet! Did you need something?”

“I was wondering if you had, uh…drugs?” You cursed yourself for sounding so amateurish.

If you had seemed inexperienced, Sunoo didn’t seem to mind. “I do,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Uh, do you sell, uh, opioids?”

Sunoo’s face fell. “No,” he said gravely. “I don’t. I haven’t carried opioids for a long time. No, only fun stuff here.”

“Fun stuff?”

“Yes,” Sunoo said with a giggle. “You want to try a little speed?”

“No…no Xanax?”

Sunoo shook his head. “Nope. No opioids and no benzodiazepines. I could give you a little K.”

Your head was starting to hurt. “What?”

“You know, put you in a K-hole. Experience ego death. It could be very enlightening,” Sunoo said earnestly. “Want some?”

“I’ll pass,” you said weakly.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Sunoo said. “You shouldn’t be afraid of ascension.”

Your parka was starting to feel too hot and Sunoo was starting to creep you out. “Sorry,” you said. “Not today. Have a nice day.”

As you walked away, you heard him call, “Don’t be afraid…”

You shivered as you re-entered the Stoker dining hall. You spotted Riki sitting down alone and headed towards him, sitting on the long bench in front of him. “How was it?” he asked through a muffled bite of breakfast burrito.

“He’s scary,” you said.

Riki laughed, choking on his burrito. He covered his mouth as he caught his breath. “Yeah, that’s Sunoo for you. Did you get anything?”

You shook your head. “No. Got too spooked. I’m straight edge now.”

“Good,” Riki said. “It’s nothing to play around with.”

You gestured for him to bring his burrito towards you, remembering the playful way he had taken a bite of your samosa last week. He reminded you of Lily, vaguely. You felt like you could try out being human around him. It was nice that he didn’t have any strong feelings for you. Riki held his food towards you and you took a bite.

You swallowed. “I’ll be safe,” you said.

“You better,” Riki said. “Listen, I know we’ve been friends for like, five minutes, but, well, you know... So I just wanted to let you know that if you, you know…ever need someone to… ah, this is so corny.”

“It is corny.”

“Shut up,” Riki mumbled.

“The same to you,” you said, a bit awkwardly. “If you ever, uh…”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever.”

Riki held up his breakfast burrito; a lone bean toppled to the table. “Want another bite?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

–

There was a bus stop a few blocks away from the school. Isa, Lily, and you all lived on-campus, and all of them were from out of town, so you took the bus to the movie theatre. Sitting on the cramped bench, squeezed in-between Lily and Isa, was enough to make your palms sweat.

You had never had friends, save for ones in middle school who would guise their ridicule as teasing. They’d tell you that you had thin skin, that they teased you because it was so easy to get a reaction out of you. So you stopped giving them a reaction. Now, inexplicably, you waited for the shoe to drop.

Isa was dressed in an oversized sweater with tweed pants, her padded coat tossed over top. It was much more like the outfits you were used to seeing her wearing. Lily wore a baggy hoodie with a long skirt, an outfit similar to yours. Isa touched up her lip gloss while she waited for the bus to arrive.

“This movie is going to be so ass,” she said, puckering her lips. “Can’t wait.”

“It has like a 20% on Rotten Tomatoes,” Lily replied.

“That’s not too bad,” Isa said. “That’s like a ‘so bad it’s good’ rating.”

“I just hope it’s entertaining at least,” Lily said with a sigh. “If it won’t scare me, I want to at least laugh.”

“If it’s not funny, I’ll find the director myself,” you said dryly.

Lily laughed. “What would you do?”

“Can’t say,” you said. Isa snorted and nudged you with her elbow.

“Little vigilante,” Isa said.

The bus arrived, you shakily dropped a few coins into the machine, and you were on. Then there was the matter of sitting. The scratchy, navy blue bus seats were arranged by twos. So Lily and Isa would sit together, and you would sit in the back. Or should you sit in the front while they sat in the back together?

Isa sat down first, patting the seat next to her. “Come sit,” she said, beckoning you. You sat down beside her, folding your hands in your lap. So it was that easy. You caught a whiff of her perfume.

“You smell good,” you said quietly. Was that creepy?

“Oh, thank you,” Isa said. “This is actually a sample I got from Marc Jacobs, Daisy Fresh.”

“Let me smell,” Lily said. Isa held her wrist behind her and Lily took a dramatic inhale. “That is really good. I wonder if I could put daisies in the smoothies…”

Isa wrinkled her nose. “Are daisies edible?”

“Chamomile is edible,” you said, “and those are daisies.”

“They are?”

“Not all daisies are chamomiles, but all chamomiles are daisies.”

Lily snapped her fingers. “Perfect. Chamomile smoothie next.”

“It could be like a sleepytime smoothie,” Isa suggested. “Lily’s Night Night Potion.”

“I like that,” Lily said approvingly. “I think chamomile is also a galactagogue.”

“A what?”

“Increases milk flow,” Lily said.

Isa turned and gave you a little conspiratorial look. She swirled her finger around her head as if to say, “She’s crazy.” It made you feel special, the same way you did when Jake treated you like a friend. Like you were normal.

It dawned on you then, as you rode the bus with two people you could consider your friends, that this could all end. If Lily found out that the Mina thing had actually happened, she would be disgusted by Jake, Sunghoon, and your association with them. You could hardly imagine what Isa would do if she found out that Jay had been breaking your back every single day for a week. It was so fragile. The basis of your friendship with them was contingent on secrets.

You started to wonder if it was worth it to figure out the full truth about what happened to Mina. You were starting to wonder why you cared.

As you watched the unsurprisingly mediocre film, sharing a full tub of popcorn between Lily and Isa, the phone containing Nina’s Instagram name burnt in your back pocket. Just a little longer. You would wait just a little longer to keep digging.

–

On Sunday, as you sat on your bed getting some studying in, you heard knocking at your door. It was a bit later, around eight. Jay hadn’t come by that evening, so you figured that he wasn’t interested. A part of you felt sad, but a part of you wished that he would come by.

To both your glee and chagrin, it was Jay. You sat down on your bed in anticipation for whatever was to come. Jay locked the door behind himself and grinned at you. “How was the movie?”

“Bad.”

“Isa said it was really shit.”

“She wasn’t lying.”

“Do you ever feel weird, working with her and talking to her while I’m…” Jay made an OK-sign and violently shoved his finger into it.

Every day. “No, do you?”

“No. Anyways, Sunoo was talking and mentioned that you wanted to try getting high,” he said, sitting on your bed. He pulled a dime bag decorated with Hello Kitty stickers out of his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “But you got scared. So I brought you a little gift.” He threw one leg over yours and rested against the headboard.

You looked at the baggie warily. “Is that…”

Jay smiled at you. “It is.”

“Isn’t cocaine…not a, uh, beginner drug? Isn’t it normally weed?”

Jay opened the bag and touched his pinky to the powder. He tasted it and nodded. “Please. You’ll be fine. I mean, middle schoolers do coke.”

“Do they?”

“Sure they do. C’mere.”

Reluctantly, you scooted closer to Jay, who promptly wrapped one arm around you. He held your chin with one hand, his arm hooked around your neck.

“Now open wide,” he said. “I’ll rub it on your gums, the way you see in movies. You ever watch Scarface?”

“No?”

“Seriously? Well, it’ll be like that.”

You opened your mouth, just enough to accommodate a finger. He gently inserted his other pinky into your mouth and rubbed the cocaine directly onto your gums. You thought it would taste like talcum powder, but instead it was more like crushed up multivitamins. The taste was almost enough to make you gag. You were expecting to feel heart palpitations, nausea, and maybe a sneak peek at death at any second. You had bought some weed back in high school, dabbled with Xanax at your lowest, but nothing that felt this dangerous.

“You’ll be fine,” Jay said, as though he could read your mind. He continued rubbing the bitter powder over your gums. “It’ll feel really good. Promise.”

Your lips grew cold and numb, and you clamped your mouth around Jay’s finger to test if you could feel something. No dice. Jay smiled and pulled his pinky away, sucking the tip of it. “Feels numb?”

You nodded and Jay laughed. “You can talk,” he said in an almost gentle tone.

“It’s numb,” you said, pressing your fingers to your lips. “My gums are numb too.”

“Is it freaky?”

“A little,” you admitted. “Don’t like it.”

“You will,” Jay said. “Trust me. You sit tight over there, I’m gonna get myself started.” You watched as Jay used one of your textbook and a razor to cut neat little lines of cocaine. You wondered if the razor marks would be embedded into the hardcover.

He snorted the lines, holding the bridge of his nose once he was done. “Fuck,” he said. “Always hurts...” Jay sat next to you again, wrapped his arm around you, and held you closely. His other hand rubbed your thigh in a languid motion.

“I fucked a girl on ecstasy once,” Jay said, brushing his fingers against you gently. “We fucked for like three hours, and she loved every second.”

“Was it that good?” you asked. Normally, you figured you would feel that strange burning sensation in your chest at the mention of another woman, but it was absent this time. You tried to scoot the slightest bit closer to him without drawing his attention.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Rolling sex is different from coke sex. Rolling sex is like…I hate to sound pretentious or corny, but it really does feel spiritual sometimes. You feel so connected to the other person, like there’s something deeper at work. To me, sex on coke is more…raw.” As he said that last word, his hand slipped under your skirt.

“It sounds fun,” you said. “Sex on ecstasy.” His subtle touch felt wonderful. It made you want to be bold again, so you ran your fingers along his jaw. It was so sharp, so perfectly sculpted.

Jay laughed. “What, you wanna try it?” His hand was now caressing your bare upper thigh with long, slow strokes, his thumb just barely teasing the edge of your panties.

“We’d have to see if I like this first,” you whispered, dragging your index finger along his Adam’s apple. You felt the way it bobbed when he swallowed, the stiffness of the cartilage of his trachea.

“Like what? Fucking me on coke?” Jay looked into your eyes and smiled in a lackadaisical manner you weren’t used to.

“Yeah,” you said. You placed your thumb and middle finger against the sides of his throat, lightly pressing down. Its rigidity juxtaposed with its fragility fascinated you. It felt like you held his life in your hands.

“Squeeze a little harder,” Jay said, heaviness sinking into his voice.

You gripped his throat a little harder, and he let out a labored breath. “Fuck,” he whispered. “More.”

You shifted yourself that you were straddling his lap. Your skirt had ridden up, bunched around your waist. Just the slight brush of his crotch against your clothed pussy was enough to make you gasp. both of your hands encircled his neck and you squeezed again. Jay let out a surprisingly loud moan, shivering underneath you. Normally, he muffled any sounds he made or merely gritted his teeth together.

“More,” Jay said, closing his eyes. “Harder, harder, harder.”

Additional pressure on his neck made Jay cry out again. He rutted his crotch against yours, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. “More,” he said, sweat starting to form beads on his forehead. His lips were parted. “Harder.”

You were starting to actually strangle him, but you didn’t care. Another squeeze and Jay groaned, involuntarily canting his hips into you again. “Fuck, fuck, stop.” He grabbed your hands and pulled them off of his neck. His eyes were bloodshot and his breathing was heavy. “Almost came…I almost came. Shit.”

You remained straddling his lap, your mind hazed over by lust. You pulled your sweater off, tossing it to the side. Jay shook his head and laughed as he threw his shirt off. “God, we should fuck on E after all,” he said. “Get off real quick?”

You pulled yourself off of his body, struggling to take your dress off. Once you had disrobed, your underwear included, you turned back to Jay. He was undressed as well, tugging his Calvin Klein boxers down; his cock sprang free, reddened and hard, the tip already wet with precum.

“I can’t do foreplay today,” Jay said, his voice strained. “Need to fuck you now. You wet enough?”

“Find out,” you said, as eager as him.

Jay laughed breathlessly, holding his arms out. You crawled back onto his lap, sitting on his thigh, and his hands settled on your hips. “I can feel it,” he whispered. “You’re dripping all over me. Can’t wait to get inside you, shit. You ever ride dick?”

You squinted at him.

“Stupid question,” Jay said. “Okay, I’ll teach you how to ride dick.” He lifted you up, giving you just enough support. “Put your hands on my shoulders. Knees on either side of me.” He wriggled backwards so that he was leaning against the headboard again, and you followed his instructions.

“Good,” he said. “Now, you just…lower yourself down on it.” You bit your lip, marveling at the lack of sensation, and lifted your hips up with Jay’s help. Sinking down on his cock made you moan, deeper than you had ever done before. Jay hissed, your name slipping from his lips. You felt your walls expanding to envelop Jay’s cock, and you felt like screaming already.

Jay guided your hips up slowly before bringing you down on his length again. “That’s all,” he said. “Up and down.” With his hands loosely holding your hips, you tried it yourself, lowering yourself on his cock again. He let out a pornographic groan which only spurred you on. Once again, you took his dick. It felt like it was filling you, all the way to your guts.

You developed a rhythm, working his cock the best you could. “That’s it,” Jay grunted, his nails digging into your flesh as he gripped your hips tighter. “Bounce on it, bounce on this dick. Like you’re my… little pornstar.” Normally, when Jay fucked you, you let him do whatever he want. It felt fine no matter what. But you liked this, being adventurous, like you were taking the lead. Testing a move you had seen in a porno a while ago, you tentatively swirled your pussy around his cock. Jay groaned and ground you down onto his lap, his balls slapping your ass. “Do that again,” he said. When you raised yourself up again, you performed the same motion. “Jesus.”

After a while, your thighs started to burn. “Hurts,” you said, slowing down. You felt disappointed that you couldn’t keep going, but apparently coke didn’t give you superpowers.

With a speed you didn’t know he possessed, Jay pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the sheets. Rolling you over onto your stomach, he lifted your hips up. His hand cracked against your ass, and you yelped. “Gonna fuck you into the mattress,” he hissed.

This wasn’t the first time he had taken you from behind, nor was it the first time he had been rough, but it still felt amazing. He pushed your head down, his hand lightly settling on your throat. With your face planted firmly inside your sheets, you rocked back onto his cock, trying to match his pace. Another hard slap landed on your ass. “Good bitch,” Jay said.

As he slid his dick in and out of you, the wetness making obscene noises, Jay nibbled and sucked harshly on a small spot on your shoulder. He loved marking you, even though you never wore anything that would reveal the traces he left behind.

Jay pounded into you from behind, his hands crawling to your tummy. He moaned erratically, and when you looked behind you, you saw that his eyes were screwed shut. You collected the arousal dripping from your pussy and played with your clit. “Gonna cum,” Jay said, panting. “Cum for me.”

You felt your orgasm building, hot and palpitating, and you moaned his name. You’d never done it before, and it made you feel self-conscious. Until Jay chanted your own name like a mantra, intermingled with loud curses. Just as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you screaming and shaking, you felt Jay pull out of you. A cool substance splattered over your back, probably his cum. Exhausted, you dropped your hips onto the bed and groaned. Your pussy contracted while you tried to ride out your orgasm, your fingers still gently making circles on your tired clit before you felt calm enough to stop.

As you laid there, you realized that you hadn’t thought about Isa once. Normally, even when he was inside you, you wondered if he had done this with Isa, and if so, how many times, and who had made him cum more, and on and on. But you hadn’t compared yourself with her once. You had just enjoyed yourself. But now the reality crept on you, that you were fucking someone else’s man. You were a homewrecker, a cheater. If the old you could see you now, she would hate you.

Jay slapped your ass again, snapping you out of your reverie. “You good?”

Lifting your head up, you turned to face Jay. Sweat dripped down his face, and his torso was trembling. You nodded, but your face must have been unconvincing.

“It’s the comedown,” Jay said. “It’s brutal the first time. You feel like shit now, right?”

“Sure, yeah,” you said shakily. “I do.”

“It’ll pass,” he said. “Come on, sit up.”

You crawled over to your headboard, feeling cold all of a sudden. Cold and empty. You thought Jay would put his arm around you, but all he did was rummage through your nightstand’s drawer for your smokes and lighter. He lit two and put one in between your lips. “It’ll help,” he murmured.

You took a long drag, shakily exhaling the smoke.

“You should take a shower after this,” Jay said. “It’ll help you clear your head.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not nearly so bad,” Jay said. Then he chuckled. “I hope you enjoyed that. That’s the best high you’ll get.” His eyes were reflective, and he took a short, angry drag.

“After this?”

“The old cliche. Now you’ll just try to chase this feeling,” he said. Clearing his throat, Jay reached for his boxers. “I gotta go. Gotta meet Sunghoon. You’ll be fine.”

You blearily watched him get dressed. He hadn’t kissed you once.

He left. You took a shower.

It didn’t help.

When you opened the door to your room, the scent of sex was so heady that you took a step back. Every time he fucked you, you felt full, until you felt hopelessly empty. Tears welled in your eyes, and you wiped them away angrily. It had been so long since you had cried properly. Now, you felt like a broken piece of china, nothing but sharp, jagged edges.

You didn’t want to be alone right now, so you picked up your cell phone. Riki had said that you were friends, and friends helped each other, right?

“Riki?” you said, your throat hoarse.

“Yeah?” he asked. “You good?”

“No,” you said quietly. “My, uh, my dog died.”

Riki fell silent. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit,” he said, his voice growing somber. “I’m sorry.”

“He was my best friend,” you said. “I’m just…sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you, but…”

“No, no, no,” Riki said. “No, Jesus, your dog died. It’s fine. You wanna meet up?”

“Yes,” you said, almost too eagerly. “Sure.”

“Your room?”

“No, no…”

“Mine?” And potentially run into Jay? You’d pass. Just as you were about to decline, Riki said, “Jay’s out with Sunghoon right now, and Jake is studying, so you won’t run into them.”

Huh. So he wasn’t lying. “Sure, yeah. I’ll come over.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come to yours? You sound really messed up.”

“I’m positive,” you said, trying to sound neutral. You knew you were failing.

–

Riki’s room was different than Jay’s in a good way. Movie posters lined his walls, and he had stuck random fast-food receipts to the walls. Clothes were thrown around haphazardly, even tossed onto his lamp. Riki was lying in bed, watching something on his laptop, but when he saw you he closed the screen and walked towards you. Without waiting for a word, he enveloped you in a hug.

It felt so good to touch someone who wasn’t involved in the stupid Jay-Isa-Jake conundrum. When you felt his arms wrap around you, you broke down into tears. It was embarrassing, falling apart in the embrace of someone you had effectively known for a few weeks. Still, Riki rubbed your back.

“I know how it is,” Riki murmured, patting your head. “If I lost bisco, I’d lose my mind. You guys were close?”

“Yeah,” you lied, allowing yourself to hug Riki back. “He was my only friend when I was younger.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. “You really must have loved him.”

“Yeah,” you said. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shuddering sob. “I think I did. And I feel stupid for it.”

Riki pulled away slightly, just so he could look at your face. “Why?”

“He’s…” you swallowed. “He was just a dog. I know that they have shorter lifespans than humans, and-and I knew that…it wouldn’t last. So why am I so upset?”

Riki pressed your head into his shoulder. “Because you’re human,” he said with a soft, not unkind, laugh. “You’re a human. It’s normal to love dogs, even if they have short lifespans. You can’t choose how you react to situations. It’d be great if you could, but you can’t.”

“I wish I could,” you said helplessly. “I wish I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Don’t say that,” Riki said. “You don’t mean that. You felt good when you were with your dog, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, tears still spilling onto Riki’s sweater. “Yeah, I did.”

“You wouldn’t get to feel that if you had no feelings. You can’t experience the highs without the lows and all that.”

You laughed despite yourself. “So wise.”

“I’m a fount of knowledge,” Riki said, patting your head again. “I keep telling you.”

You sniffled and a realization overtook you. You pulled away from Riki and he stepped back, surprised. “What is it?”

“You’re dating someone,” you said quietly. “Sorry, I forgot. I forgot you were…sorry.”

Riki grabbed your wrist, preventing you from leaving. “Hey. My girlfriend doesn’t own me, first of all. If anyone I date gets mad because I’m comforting a friend with a dead dog, then I wouldn’t date them. That’s fucked. Second of all…” Riki hesitated, pressing his thumb against your veins. “I think we’re done soon, anyways.”

“Really?”

Riki nodded, letting go of you. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m not….the best person, you know. So it’s sort of inevitable.”

“You don’t seem so bad to me,” you protested. “You aren’t as bad as Jay.”

Riki covered his mouth as he snickered. “If you have to use Jay as a benchmark…”

“Fair enough.”

Riki shrugged, kicking a stray sock around on his floor.

“Well, you’re nice to me,” you said.

That made Riki scoff. “Quit it. You sound like an orphan again. It’s not that hard to be nice to you, you know. I’m not a good person just because I don’t treat you like shit.”

You bit your lip, feeling admonished. Riki looked up at you and winced. “Look at me, being a dick to a girl with a dead dog. I told you I’m not nice.”

It was your turn to scoff, lightly hitting his arm. “Shut up.”

Riki chuckled. “What was his name?”

“Whose?”

“Your dog’s, dummy.”

Shit. Shit, shit, what was a name? “Mr. Wigglesworth,” you offered.

“Mr.? Did he have a first name?”

“Mr. was his first name.”

“That’s a really stupid name for a dog.”

“Well,” you said flatly. “He’s dead, so at least he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“All right, Wednesday, I was just joking.”

“So was I.”

With a shake of his head, Riki flopped back onto his bed. “You’re so difficult,” he said with a smile. “And very annoying.”

“You’re rubbing off on me,” you retorted.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s my birthday month. Be nice to me. Oh, shit, I didn’t invite you to the party yet.”

“Party?”

“Sunghoon’s birthday is on the 8th, and mine is on the 9th, so we’re going to have a joint party. It’ll start at 11 on the 8th and end…whenever it ends. It’ll be really fun. You should come. Well, no, you have to come. It’s an order from the birthday boy.”

You didn’t relish the thought of another party, but how could you refuse Riki after he had been so kind to you? “Yeah, of course. Where is it?”

“Heh. I won’t tell you. You’ll have to drive there with me,” Riki said.

“Oh. So I won’t need a password?”

“Nah,” Riki said. “If you want it, it’s ‘foreshadow’.”

“How cryptic,” you said.

Riki smiled. “I try. Anyways, you want to watch Jujutsu Kaisen with me?”

“Never seen it.”

“Oh, you’re missing out,” he said, turning his tablet back on.

“I bet.”

–

Jake texted you on Sunday night, asking you to meet up at Stoker’s cafeteria. You were starting to spend far too much time there for your liking. As you diligently walked over there, you felt the same feeling, like something was off. The clusters of people still dotting the fields glanced at you - that was it. People were looking at you. They never used to pay attention to you before, but now their eyes burnt holes into you. You were starting to become associated with the Karma Club, and you realized that that association would make joining the group chat even more difficult. You’d have to use a burner account, if you did join it. If.

Jake was sitting on one of the oak benches, two bagels in his hands. His black eye had faded into a yellow-green smear, and his lip had scarred over. “Hey,” he said, smiling at you. “I hope you like bagels.”

You took one of the bagels and sat down across from him. “Bagels at night?”

Jake shrugged. “Why not?”

“Why not, indeed?” You took a bite of it and wiped the crumbs from your lips. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said slowly. “It’s just that I’m going away for my birthday. I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

“Two weeks for your birthday?”

“My parents are extra,” Jake said, tearing off a chunk of his bagel. “I’ll be back in time for Sunghoon and Riki’s birthday party, though. You going?”

“Riki forced my hand,” you said.

Jake grinned. “Attaboy. So, you know, if Jay does anything, just let me know. I hate that I’m leaving you alone with him for two weeks.”

“He hasn’t done anything to me in a while,” you said, your eyes drifting away from Jake’s face.

“That’s good,” Jake said. “It’s just…you can never know with him. He’s so unpredictable. We had an argument a few days ago…” Jake popped another bite of bagel into his mouth.

“Argument?”

“I haven’t been doing very well,” Jake said quietly. Now it was his turn to avert his gaze; he picked at a thread on his large grey hoodie. “I’ve been doing shit recently. Nothing to do with you, just life. I, you know, I’ve always had problems, and sometimes I can deal with them. Control them, be the person my friends want me to be. But sometimes they get the best of me.”

“What do your friends want you to be?”

“Nice guy Jake.” Jake’s voice was bitter. “Everyone wants me to be that way. Can’t make a mistake. Can’t slip up. When someone else fucks up, it’s fine. It’s normal. But when I fuck up, it’s the end of the world. I’m the worst person alive.”

You nodded slowly, comparing his words with what Jay had told you. “I don’t think you’re the worst person alive.”

Jake chuckled, examining his bagel. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“You’ve been nice to me,” you continued. “So thank you. I know it must be weird…”

“It’s not weird at all,” Jake said. “It’s not weird for me, I swear. I fell for you really fast, I know. I don’t expect anything and I still don’t.”

You didn’t know what else to say, and Jake fell silent too. “I love the Karma Club,” he said after a while, “but sometimes I feel like I’m losing myself, hanging around them all the time, always doing risky shit.”

“Maybe this will be good for you,” you said. “Your vacation, I mean.”

“Vacation,” Jake said vaguely. “Maybe it will. Thanks for letting me talk, Wednesday.”

“No problem,” you said. “Thanks for the bagel.”

“No problem.”

You smiled at Jake, and Jake smiled at you, and for a moment you wished that you could just like Jake. You could have a million nights like this, eating bagels together, talking, baring your souls. If you thought about it, it nearly sounded appealing.

“Happy early birthday,” you said after a while.

“Thank you,” Jake said.

The two of you ate your bagels in silence.

–

You spent the next three weeks as usual. This time, after your library shift, you, Isa, Sunghoon, and Riki would go to the smoothie shop. When Lily wasn’t working there, she would go as well, sitting next to Sunghoon and discussing different flavour pairings. You, Isa, and Riki would sit at a table, sipping your smoothie and talking. Isa treated Riki like a little brother, and it was fun to see them argue about nothing in particular.

Jay still came into your room every evening. At some point, you could tell that he had started to derive some sort of pleasure in ignoring you at the library only to be intimate with you in private. When Isa wasn’t looking, he would give you a quick once-over, mouth obscenities at you, or even wink at you.

He was staying for longer, now. Jay would laze in your room for an entire hour afterwards. You wondered where he told his friends he was going every evening, if he told them anything at all. You didn’t want to ask, though. The “relationship” between the two of you seemed so tenuous, so fragile, that if you pulled at any of the threads it could unravel. The emptiness after he left was becoming worse, too. What was once an indefinite, hazy feeling turned into a wound that began to fester. You constantly had to gauge how much you could reveal, holding back on kissing him passionately lest Jay find out that you didn’t hate him. That you were starting to want more.

It was a Tuesday. Sunghoon’s birthday fell on Wednesday, and Riki’s fell on Thursday, so everyone who was going to the party was planning on skipping school. You had never skipped a day of college before, so you felt a delicious little thrill at the thought of it. Jay was lying in your bed, his hand on your stomach, lightly squeezing it. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and he was only now starting to catch his breath. He had gotten a new gash on his arm, probably from a stupid fight. He would always summarize those skirmishes as, “dumbass bullshit.” You never pried too deeply into what he did when he was being a Karma Club member. “I was thinking,” he said, “you know that motel, Colborne Motel?”

“No.”

“The one where that guy killed that hooker?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Huh. Well, a guy killed a hooker in one of those rooms, Room 115 or 116 or something.”

“Where are you going with this?”

Jay smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the darkening light filtering in from outside. “I think we should go there, drop E, and fuck.”

You squinted. “You want to hook up where someone got murdered?”

“I thought that that would appeal to you,” Jay said, continuing to squeeze and stroke your stomach. “Given your…personality.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You flicked his forehead, something you had seen Isa do to Riki.

Jay lightly flicked you back with his free hand. “You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean.”

You reached out to flick him again, but Jay grabbed your wrist and rolled on top of you, pinning you to the bed. “Say it anyways.”

“Well, you certainly don’t seem scared of death,” he said, “and your Emily the Strange vibe doesn’t help.”

“You know who Emily the Strange is?”

“She was my first crush,” Jay said.

“Explains a lot about your psyche,” you deadpanned. “It’s very Freudian, your first love-object.”

“Oh, don’t start talking pseudoscience,” Jay said, pulling both of your wrists over your head. “It makes me want to do nasty things to you.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, but you’re lucky I’m too tired.” Jay leaned down and kissed you, holding your wrists in one hand. The other slipped to your cheek. When he pulled away, he gave you an odd look. “Have you bought anything for Riki’s birthday?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t really know what to get him.”

Jay let go of your wrists and fell down beside you once more. “Neither do I,” Jay said. “That kid already has everything. Sunghoon was easy to shop for.”

“What’d you get him?”

“A novelty toaster oven.”

“Where’s the novelty?”

“It can toast a picture of a penguin on the bread,” Jay said. “It’s pretty cool.”

“I see.”

Jay sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair. “What do I get that kid?”

“Maybe I’ll get him a cologne,” you said thoughtfully. “He doesn’t seem like he has a lot. I guess I can take the bus to the mall”

“I’ll just drive you,” Jay said. You stared at him, befuddled. “What? It makes sense. I can find something for Riki, you can get him something so he knows that you’re not a shit friend who didn’t buy him a birthday gift, you give me head in a change room…”

“Jay.”

“The perfect plan,” he continued. “Go shower. Meet me on the corner of Decelis Street and blossom avenue.” Jay rolled out of your bed and started to put his clothes back on.

You could hardly move, but you got up anyway and started going through your closet for something to wear. You laid your clothes out on your bed.

“See you in 20,” Jay said once he was fully dressed. When he left, you shoved the wad of bills he had given you last month into your purse. Thanks to Jay, you could afford to buy Riki something nice.

—

Jay pulled up in his all-black Mazda. It didn’t have a single scuff, or any visible use of wear, which surprised you. You had figured that he would be a risky driver. Jay opened the door for you, yelling, “Get in.”

You sank your head into the soft leather seat, trying not to make it apparent that you were admiring his car. No such luck. Jay looked at you and smirked.

“You’ve never even seen a car this nice, right?” he asked.

“It serves its purpose as compensation for your manhood quite well,” you said.

Jay scoffed, buckling his seatbelt. “That little joke would work better if you hadn’t seen how big my dick is. And you can’t say it’s not, either.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. You have a huge dick, a nice car, and you’re rich. You win.”

“Thank you,” Jay said. “That’s all I’ve been wanting to hear.”

“Can you put some sunglasses on, too?” you asked, putting your own seatbelt on over your bulky sweater. “So you can be as douchey as possible?”

Jay opened the glove compartment, fumbled around, and took out a small glasses case embossed with the word PRADA in gold lettering. He took out a sleek pair of sunglasses and put them on. “Are you ready for the most pretentious car ride of your goddamn life?”

“Ready,” you said, fighting a grin.

Jay peeled off of the curb and drove towards the mall. You stared out of the window, trying to absorb everything about the surrounding city. Having no reason to venture off campus, this was practically new territory for you. The leaves were already red, shifting into a decaying brown. The houses you passed were somewhat smaller than Yeonjun’s place, yet still just as lavish. Jay turned onto the highway.

“Gonna play some rock music,” he said, fidding with the Spotify app on the dashboard panel. “I know it’s not Alanis Morisette, but…”

“I like rock,” you said. “As most people do.”

“You’d be surprised,” Jay said. “Isa listens to the most mainstream shit ever. Frank Ocean, SZA, Taylor Swift…” Jay wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“They’re popular artists,” you said.

“Popular shartists,” he said. Jay put on Highway to Hell by AC/DC, and you rolled your eyes.

“Asserting your musical dominance by playing one of the most well-known rock songs of all time, are we?”

“You don’t deserve to hear my selection of deep cuts,” Jay retorted. “Bitch.”

You laughed. “Deep cuts such as American Idiot by Green Day and Smells like Teen Spirit by Nirvana?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jay said, but he was fighting a grin. “Pretentious slut.”

“Hypocritical manwhore.”

“Gloomy bitch.”

“Unfunny asshole.”

“Humourless cunt.”

“You copied mine,” you said.

“That wasn’t copying,” Jay replied. “That was me improving upon your work.”

“Improving used subjectively here?”

“I’ll use you subjectively,” Jay said.

“What?”

“My dick is like half-mast right now,” he said. “Can I pull over so we can…”

“No.”

Jay laughed so loudly he nearly swerved into a semi-truck. You yelled, which only made him laugh more. Eventually, you joined in as well.

–

You had never been to an outlet mall before, let alone one so upscale. You only recognized some of the names displayed on the map just outside the entrance - Prada, Dior, Chanel, Gucci, Versace. It was a dizzying list, one that harkened back the years of thrift store clothes and exclusion.

“You see anywhere you want to go?” Jay asked, coming up behind you. He had been busy trying to tuck his sunglasses into his loose baggy T-shirt, eventually settling with wearing them around the back of his head.

“Uh,” you said. “Don’t know.”

“There’s a Tom Ford store,” Jay said, pointing towards the north of the map. They make good fragrances. I have a few, actually. We could go there first, then I’ll get my gift for him.”

“Sounds good,” you said weakly. Even though he was dressed casually, Jay still seemed like he meshed better with the platoon of patrons wandering around, hauling shopping bags as big as suitcases around. You felt like someone’s raggedy little sister.

“What are you waiting for?” Jay asked. “Shoo.”

You sighed, walking towards Tom Ford. As you walked, you passed by stores with avant-garde clothes pasted on mannequins in different poses, makeup boutiques, and lingerie stores.

“Should we stop here?” Jay asked innocently, pointing at La Perla.

“What, for you? Sure,” you said.

“Maybe I will,” Jay said. “I’d look cute in a thong, wouldn’t you agree.”

You clamped your mouth shut and he snorted. “This mall is nice because no one from our school comes here,” he said. “They just shop online, or if they shop in person, they go to the one over in Riverfield.”

“Why?”

“There’s boba,” he explained. “And there’s trendier stores there, but I like classic stores better. You know what I mean?”

“No.”

“I guess you wouldn’t,” he said. “Like Cinderella without the talking rats.”

“There’s one right next to me,” you said.

Jay snorted. “That was good, actually.”

You smiled and continued taking in your surroundings. The sky was dark, but the cobblestone paths of the outlet mall were lined with old-fashioned street lamps that illuminated the area well. Eventually, you made your way to Tom Ford. Jay opened the door for you, impatiently ushering you inside. The store was hopelessly luxurious. Two sumptuous grey couches faced each other, settled on swirled marble floors. The shelves were glass, and the items were one of each. You supposed that you had to request the item you wanted.

You wandered towards the fragrance section, where an overly-effusive worker hounded you. Jay nodded at him once and then he went away somewhere else. You marveled at how Jay’s aura, if you could call it that, extended outside of school. You spritzed a random bottle of cologne onto a strip of paper, waved it in the air, and took a sniff.

“Costa Azzura,” Jay said, watching you closely. “That’s a good one.”

“I don’t know if it’ll suit Riki,” you mumbled. Jay snatched the piece of paper from you and inhaled.

“You’re right,” he said. “Too mature for him.”

You took a lighter-coloured bottle and sampled that next. It was citrusy, with a hint of spice. “This is better,” you said. Grey Vetiver.

Jay frowned at you. “Don’t you want to try more?”

“Why? This one smells fine.”

“Maybe there’s one that’ll be better,” Jay said.

You groaned and put the bottle back on the shelf. Azure Lime was next, then Tuscan Leather, then Fucking Fabulous. “There’s too many,” you grumbled. “I’m getting Grey Vetiver.”

“You’re rushing the process,” Jay said. “Here, try Electric Cherry.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do it,” he growled. You reluctantly took a sniff of the strip of paper Jay had thrust under your nose.

“It’s fine,” you said weakly. “It’s very feminine, though. Not sure if Riki would like it.”

“Riki,” Jay said. “Riki. Yeah, you’re right. Get the Grey Vetiver.” Jay beckoned a store attendant to come over, requesting a box of the cologne. While they were gone, you opened your purse and took out a few of the $100 bills Jay had given you.

Jay stared at you, dumbfounded. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going to pay for th-,”

“No,” Jay said sternly. “No, no paying with fucking cash at a luxury store. Were you raised in a barn?”

“But-,”

“So useless,” Jay said. “I’ll just pay for it. It’s my money you were going to use anyways.” He walked over to the cash register and paid for the cologne, a scowl on his face the entire time. When he was done, he thrusted the bag into your hands. “You’re welcome,” he said.

You stumbled out of the store after him. “Where will you go to get your gift for Riki?” you asked.

“I don’t know, prude,” Jay snapped. “Unlike you, I know how to enjoy a shopping experience.”

Enjoy was a very generous word to use. Jay dragged you to virtually every single store in the mall that sold men’s clothing. He hemmed and hawed over the cut of pants, asked the store attendants to bring out clothes that he examined with the scrutiny of a surgeon, and fingered the fabric of every piece he liked.

He made you try on the clothes over your own outfit, forcing you to put on bombers, puffs, leather jackets, and assorted hats.

“This Moncler raincoat suits you,” Jay murmured. It had been two hours, and your feet were aching.

“It doesn’t matter if it suits me,” you said, your voice coming out in a whine. “It’s for Riki.”

Jay waved his hand. “All you younger people are the same anyways. Come on, put this short down jacket on.”

You stripped the raincoat off and handed it over to an attendant before trying on the jacket.

“Very nice,” Jay said, a hand over his mouth. “Very nice…”

“How come you’re getting him a jacket, anyways? Doesn’t he already have one? Or several?”

“Every year, the KC goes on a trip over winter break,” Jay explained, fondling the hem of the jacket. “We all pick straws to see who gets to pick the location. Jungwon drew the longest, so we’re going to the Swiss Alps.”

“The Alps?”

“Don’t bother asking,” Jay muttered. “I don’t know either. Arms up.”

You stuck your arms out so Jay could examine the “movement” of the jacket, whatever that meant. He wasn’t even getting them in Riki’s size anymore.

“Yes….good…Now take it off.” Once you peeled off the warm coat, Jay gestured for a store attendant. “One in this size,” he said.

“Riki won’t fit in that,” you said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jay said. “That’s for something else.”

Or someone else. You bit your lip in frustration. He was probably buying that stupid jacket for Isa, and you were just the model.

“I’m tired,” you said.

“One last store,” Jay said, his voice dropping slightly. “Wanted to go back to Armani, get him a nice suit.”

“Whatever.”

“Poor doggy,” Jay said, scratching your chin. “All tired out?”

You pulled your head away from his hand. “I’m not a dog.”

“Woof.”

“I hope you get stranded in the Swiss Alps,” you grumbled.

“You’d get stranded there too,” Jay said.

“Why would I be there?”

Jay smiled, once again brandishing his credit card as he walked to the cash register. “Trip rules state that we can take one person as a date,” he said. “And dickless is probably going to ask you to go with him.”

“And you’ll ask Isa?”

If you hadn’t been so attuned to his actions, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way his fingers tightened on his bank card. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take Isa.”

–

When you got back to your dorm room, clutching the Tom Ford back, you let out a shaky sigh. You considered tossing the cologne onto your bed, but Riki didn’t deserve to suffer just because you were upset. Instead, you pulled out your phone and downloaded the Instagram app.

You needed a good name, something anonymous, something that no one could ever associate with you. Just in case things went tits-up. You decided on the moniker “jumblesack82.” Then you went to your Notes app, found Nina’s Instagram handle, and typed it in. She wasn’t private, so you could scroll through her photos.

Nina was pretty, sociable, smart, and outgoing. Her feed was plastered with pictures of her with friends, wearing cute outfits, and enjoying life. Just before you followed her, you decided to see if you couldn’t find Lily.

Scrolling through her followers list, you eventually found her. lily2morrow. Her entire page appeared to be pictures of her holding various drinks and smiling, one of which you recognized as the maca root smoothie she had given you last month. Lily had posted something on her Instagram story, so you clicked on it. It was a picture of someone with their face cut off, holding the straw of a smoothie and playfully trying to cover the photo with the other. To your horror and dismay, you recognized those pale, pale hands. Sunghoon and Lily…? The Karma Club truly left no stones unturned.

You went through her following to find Isa’s page next. It just made you feel like throwing up. Seeing her selfies, her vibrant red hair, her stupid fucking captions like, “I’d marry you with paper rings~” it made you feel insane. What turned your stomach the most recent photo she had taken, one of her and Jay. His hand settled on her waist, and she was cupping his chin in her hand. He was actually smiling into the camera.

From what you had ascertained from his comments about her, you had assumed that Jay disliked Isa. You couldn’t understand why he was still with her, but you could at least revel in the fact that he disliked her in some way. But this picture of them, undeniable proof that people knew they were together, that they existed beyond four walls, it made your skin crawl. People probably mentioned them in tandem: there’s Jay and Isa, are Isa and Jay going to the party, Jay likes Isa, Isa likes Jay, Isa loves Jay, Isa wants to fuck Jay. Seemingly to protect your sensibilities, Isa rarely talked about Jay in the group chat you had with her and Lily. Mainly, you coordinated when you were going to meet up, shared funny pictures. Occasionally, she would allude to “her man”, but you could take that in stride. You realized that she probably spoke to Lily about Jay, behind your back.

You didn’t bother trying to find the Karma Club members on Instagram. You felt like your world was already imploding. Through blurred vision, you DMed Nina. You thought it would be wise to disguise your typing style.

You: hi im the girl you met earlier >_<

Nina: Hi! You’re the one who had trouble with the Karma Club

You: yes ._.

Nina: I’ll tell one of them to invite you right now, girlie!

You: thank you girlie >3<

Soon, you were inside of the group chat, conveniently and aptly titled “Anti KC”. Immediately, several people started texting at once, relaying a variety of greetings. They asked you what your name was, and you said you were hiding your identity for protection. “So smart,” one of them typed. You frowned. None of them had used alternate accounts?

You scrolled through the members of the group chat. You didn’t know most of them. Jisun, Somi, Rachel, Sieun, Irene, Chaeyoung, Minji, Dia. All very beautiful girls.

One of them asked what the Karma Club had done to you, and the others concurred. They wanted to know everything. So they could help you, they said. You briefly considered lying, but then you remembered that picture, that damned picture of Jay and Isa.

So you typed out everything leading up to Jay’s rape of you. After some hesitation, you included that. You read your message back over before you sent it. It looked so garish, awful, and inhumane looking at it. The facts were cold and conveyed none of the nuance. None of the emotions you had felt. You sent it anyways.

You received a sympathetic wave of asspats, which did nothing to lessen your internal anguish. Oh, well. They believed you, and they trusted you. That was something. You didn’t exactly join the group chat to kumbaya anyways. You were here for answers, to figure out what had happened to Mina once and for all. Nina had mentioned that the group chat was made shortly after the Mina incident, so you started by backscrolling. You didn’t care that it would take a while.

You were surprised by the sheer inanity of half of the conversations in the group chat. You had assumed that it would be more like a group of women attempting to take down the Karma Club, but instead it was partially being used for idle gossip. Still, some of the things you saw were interesting. For example, that Heeseung was a serial cheater, and had slept with nearly every single girl in the group besides Sieun and Minji, who were your age.

One year, the Karma Club had allegedly destroyed thousands of dollars worth of alcohol when they went to a bar. Sunoo had given the rugby team, the volleyball team, the cheerleading squad, several teachers, and a few of the girls in the chat the shits. Sunghoon extorted people for money, Jungwon supposedly had blackmail on half of the school, and Riki was “cute but evil.” They didn’t say anything about the things he had done, oddly enough.

None of this seemed as bad as what Jay had done to you, although Jay was a most reviled figure in the chat. Strangely enough, they seemed to slobber over him in equal measure to their lambasement of him. “He’s so hot but so fucked up,” one of them said. “He’s like irl Takumi from Nana frrrr” another person said. Ridiculous. All they could say about him was that he got into fights, had a nasty temper, and couldn’t hold a girlfriend down. “Good luck to Isa,” one person said. You had to bite your fist to stop yourself from screaming.

Eventually, after what felt like a month of nonstop scrolling, you got into the earlier years of the chat. Dia, Chaeyoung, and Rachel had started the group chat because they had gotten cheated on by Heeseung. They commented on the Mina incident, initially condemning her.

“she makes the rest of us look bad,” Rachel had typed. “lying about rape is crazyyy”

“fr,” Chaeyoung had sent. “amber heard ass”

Then someone named Jisun had been introduced into the chat. She had been diligent in cataloging what the Karma Club had done. Jisun had apparently been friends with Mina and defended her friend.

“jake is so evil and im sick of people acting like he’s not as equally as big of a piece of shit as the rest of them lmao,” Jisun had said. “jake ruined her life. hes the one that got her hooked on oxy. shes prbly in rehab rn. i dont even know if she lied her not. even if she did, he deserved it”

“fuck fake” Dia had typed. “*jake”

Oxy? Oxycontin? You already knew, but you Googled it just to be sure. Your heart was pounding inside of your ears. Oxycontin, a known opioid. On one hand, you should be wary of any information you got from people who hated the Karma Club members. On the other hand, it was a coincidence you couldn’t ignore.

Mina had to be administered naloxone, something used during an opioid overdose. Jake had introduced Mina to opioids.

And tomorrow night, you would be partying with him.

(continued in next part)

#enha smut #enhypen smut #kpop fanfiction #jay smut #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #jay enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

686 notes · View notes

draconic-desire · 7 months

Text

A Dance With the Dragon III — Opera

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III — You are here] [Part IV]

Neuvillette enjoys bringing you to the Opera Epiclese. You, not so much. The result; a clash of tides.

Warnings: Implied past NSFW, typical yandere tendencies and obsessive behavior

You had grown to loathe the opera.

When Neuvillette first suggested it, you had perked up immediately. You ignored his rare smile at your excitement, knowing he believed to use this as a stepping stone to winning you over. You didn’t care; the Chief Justice was delusional if he thought you wouldn’t abuse this opportunity to escape.

Your plan, of course, was a complete failure.

Neuvillette kept a firm, guiding hand on your lower back the entire night. Even the slightest movement on your part would earn you a warning glower. He wasn’t even challenging you to act out; no, he was demanding your compliance. Bastard.

And Archons, the stares you got for it.

You knew that Neuvillette had worked his way up to being a well-respected and renowned figure, but you never expected the fanbase he had acquired. He was barraged by women and men alike, all hoping for a chance to woo, interview, or befriend Fontaine’s Chief Justice. He responded to all of their inquiries with aplomb, though you noticed his grip on your waist tighten every time an individual would glance your way, whether out of curiosity or envy.

Standing off to the side, you swirled the champagne glass clasped in your hand, opting to remove yourself from the conversation. Honestly, you were shocked he had allowed you to indulge in any alcohol with his obsession over your health. Such regulations included eliminating certain foods from your diet (“Why would anyone ever eat food that’s been deep fried?”) and drinking an ungodly amount of water each day, usually with a long conversation about its flavors.

Oh, and the physical activity, too.

With a scowl, you tipped the flute back to imbibe the rest of the champagne. Maybe if you got drunk enough, you’d have some respite from both the spotlight and your memories with him. He already seized every moment of your reality; you didn’t need him plaguing your thoughts, too.

But luck was never on your side these days.

A particularly nosy group of women had been giving you the stink eye all night, until one of them strutted up to your “date”. Despite being multiple paces away, you could hear their entire conversation. She curtsied, batting her long lashes flirtatiously. “Good evening, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am Trudaine, daughter of the Duke of Romaritime Harbor. I’ve been meaning to approach you for some time now, for who could resist such a handsome and powerful man?”

You rolled your eyes and kept chugging as Neuvillette beckoned you towards him. Before he could answer, you reluctantly closed the distance between the two of you, feeling his hand caress your lower back. Trudaine sneered as she looked you up and down. “I must inquire, who is the lady you’ve brought as your accompaniment tonight?”

Neuvillette tipped his head politely. “Greetings, Lady Trudaine. While I appreciate your flattery, I must decline your advancements. You see, Lady (Y/n) here is my wife.”

You choked on your drink.

While Neuvillette rubbed your back in a concerned manner, believing you had simply had too much to drink, Trudaine’s lip curled in disgust. “Her, a Lady?” she barked in disbelief. “Come now, Monseiur. She’s clearly nothing but a commoner, and not even one from Fontaine.”

Neuvillette’s judgmental gaze flicked down to the woman with a dangerous flash. “Lady Trudaine, I suggest you take your leave before I lose my temper.”

The Judicator’s expression must have spooked her, for she quickly shut her mouth and scurried to the safety of her friend group, no doubt to continue the gossip about you.

“My dear, are you alright?”

You waved Neuvillette away, coughing up the last bit of alcohol. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You placed the empty glass on a nearby table; alcohol had been ruined for you for the rest of the night. “Though I don’t recall accepting your proposal, husband.”

Neuvillette ran a gloved hand through his bangs. “Ah, forgive me. Your human customs sometimes elude me. If it is a ring you seek, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You gaped at him. “You seriously think I’m upset because you didn’t buy me a damn ring?” You pressed yourself against his chest, jabbing a finger into his robes. Neuvillette sucked in a breath, marveling at the proximity. You were actually touching him. He didn’t care in what context; he could feel your warmth, sense your heartbeat in tandem with his own. It took every ounce of his might not to rip that dress off your form and bury himself inside you.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” you whispered so as not to draw attention, “I am not, and will never be, your wife. I do not, and will never, love you. You may think us a couple, or mates, or that what you feel for me is love, but you have seaweed for brains. You have taken everything from me—my freedom, my career, my family, my vision. You have forced yourself on me and molded me into some hollow version of myself.” You gestured to your attire, all lace and frills to replace your preferred pants, to emphasize your point. “Delude yourself all you want with titles like ‘wife’ and ‘dear’ and ‘mate’, but they are nothing but empty monikers.”

The enamored look on the Justice’s face only served to prove your point. Stretching his cane horizontally behind your back and cupping your chin with the other hand, he trapped you against his form. “All in good time, my darling. Rocks may appear unbreakable, but the sea erodes them all eventually.”

~*~

Then there was the most recent time he had taken you.

Neuvillette’s idea of a ‘compromise’ was to forgo the formalities of chit-chat for simply sitting in your (private balcony) seats until the opera began. This development saved you from the crowd, but at the cost of being alone to fend off his intimate touches. You practically snarled at him when his hand snaked up your thigh.

“Try that again in public and you’ll lose that hand.”

“Later, then.” He muttered the promise as the lights dimmed.

The opera’s plot centered on an ancient monster rescuing a sacrificed maiden. Instead of devouring her, the creature took her into his care, and their love led to the creation of the Melusines. You nearly throttled Neuvillette at the climax, when the maiden denounced the humans who sent her to die in favor of becoming an immortal with the creature. The so called “monster”, then, transformed into a handsome god of the sea.

As the curtains fell and the lights rose, you glimpsed his subtle smile. Standing abruptly from your seat, you moved towards the exit without sparing him another glance. “Don’t even fucking start.”

~*~

This time, however, you found an opportunity to turn the tables.

This time, Neuvillette had permitted you to mingle alone within the crowd in the Opera’s foyer prior to the show. Pointless chatter with the other opera goers was preferable to being alone with him, though you really knew that Neuvillette had agreed as a test of your loyalty. Although it seemed you could roam as you pleased, you knew the Iudex kept one eye on you at all times. A note slipped into a hand or a whisper for help into an ear would be detected immediately.

While you refrained from approaching others, that didn’t mean you could prevent others from approaching you.

Others like the exceptionally handsome individual striding towards you.

His azure irises soaked in your form as he ran a gloved hand through his fiery-toned hair. Once before you, he delivered a playful bow, lips pulled in a smirk. “Ah, and might I ask why a lady as stunning as yourself is standing by herself?”

You lowered the champagne glass from your lips, taking in the man’s appearance. Based on the thick fur coat slung over his shoulders and the single red earring flashing on his left ear, he certainly wasn’t from Fontaine, though he clearly possessed a good deal of wealth nonetheless.

Your eyes shifted towards the hydro vision on his hip. Your hand instinctively went to your neckline, where your own vision would have been. The only reason you hadn’t gone mad from its absence was because it was never truly far from you—that is to say, because Neuvillette was never far. Your heart ached, and somehow the fact that this man shared a hydro vision made you trust him. “And might I inquire as to who’s asking?”

The man offered you a coy smile. “Call me Tartaglia.”

Returning the smile, you sketched a brow cheekily. “That’s quite a unique name. You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Am I really that easy to pin?” Tartaglia chuckled, blue eyes sparking mischievously. “Seems I’m losing my touch.”

“Not at all. If you ever need someone to get you acquainted with Fontaine, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” you shot back with a wink, your implications clear. Of course there was no world in which Neuvillette would ever let that happen, but you missed how fun it was to flirt—or just to even talk with—someone who wasn’t the Iudex. You’d take your fun when you could.

Tartaglia’s grin only grew at your suggestion. He offered you the second glass of champagne he held. “I noticed you might be needing another one of these, though really I just took whatever excuse I could to talk to you. Are you really here all by yourself?”

Before you could respond, your gaze subconsciously flicked around the room until it landed on the one who had brought you here. And it was then you noticed the Chief Justice glowering at you, his knuckles turning white around the goblet in his fist. The group of officials around him, though they kept prattling on, went completely ignored as his silver glare flicked between you and the mysterious redhead.

Oh, this would be good.

As Neuvillette excused himself from the conversation, your eyes met his own and a wry grin graced your lips. Blame it on the alcohol, but you were feeling bold and invincible. Like you were the one in power for once. Maybe that’s why, before Neuvillette could reach you, you leaned towards Tartaglia and purred, “It’s just you and me.”

Then you tilted your face up and kissed his cheek, the barest hint of your lips brushing against his porcelain skin. And yes, it was petty in every sense of the word, but you reveled in the furious spark of Neuvillette’s lilac irises.

No more than a second later, a shadow loomed over the two of you. Neuvillette stepped between you and Tartaglia, forcing the other man to take a large step backwards. You, on the other hand, were now partially hidden by the Chief Justice’s large frame, his left arm out to hold you behind him. His cane cracked against the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Tartaglia quickly recovered, looking more entertained than anything. “Woah, comrade! We were just having a bit fun! No need to spoil the mood,” he laughed.

Neuvillette’s eyes simply narrowed as he maintained his calm facade. “You will stay away from my wife.”

The redhead tipped his head, trying to get a better look at you past the Iudex. “Didn’t know I was chatting with the Chief Justice’s lady! Any chance I could convince you to share?” He laughed again, flashing sharp teeth.

Neuvillette was far from amused. “You should hope to never cross paths with me in court, Harbinger.”

Wait. Did he just say Harbinger?

You may have been locked away for four hundred years, but you’d still been informed of the Snezhnayan group of Delusion bearers and their influence (whether for better or for worse) across Teyvat in recent years. You barely had time to process that revelation as Neuvillette firmly clasped your wrist and dragged you outside.

Heavy rain had started to fall, battering the Court with its relentless downpour. Both you and Neuvillette were quickly soaked to the bone, and while you were shivering in your light gown, the Iudex whirled on you. “What exactly did you think you were doing?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, knowing it would twist the knife even further. “What do you mean?”

“With that man,” Neuvillette said, gritting his teeth. His composed, human mask was slowly slipping, and you were in the mood to provoke the dragon beneath.

“What, I’m not allowed to talk to other men? You were the one who said I could mingle tonight.”

Neuvillette’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Talking? You kissed him, (Y/n). In front of your husband.” His tone slipped into a deep growl. “Your mate.”

Anger flaring, you went in for the kill. “Despite what you keep telling yourself, we are not actually married—”

“Silence!”

Thunder rumbled across the court so violently you swore you felt the ground shake. You gasped as the leviathan tattoo on your arm resurfaced, illuminating your face with blue magic. The authority in his voice cascaded down your spine, soaking your entire being as if you had been submerged into the depths of the darkest ocean. But no, it wasn’t just that—the rain had started to fall even harder, accompanied by gusts of wind that threatened to knock you to your knees. You could barely see five feet in front of you, but the visibility didn’t matter, since Neuvillette’s figure was as clear as day.

He was glowing.

The Hydro Dragon’s horns sparked with blue light, and his robes seemed to have expanded to create flowing waves on either side of his form. Tendrils of azure power snaked through the air around him, forming intricate patterns that resembled water droplets spiraling around one another. Blue seeped from the bottom of his cane and formed cracks through the ground that pulsed with raw energy, threatening to unleash the waters below. His irises burned as bright and silver as moonlight on a midnight sea.

Neuvillette might have been the most composed individual in all of Fontaine, but when his anger bubbled over, it was no mere flood—it was a tsunami.

You gaped at his appearance, the closest to his true draconic form you had seen to date. You suddenly felt like provoking him was your worst idea yet, but that wasn’t what scared you the most. “Did you…can you control…?”

“I am no mere water nymph or Melusine,” Neuvillette replied curly, power dripping from his body as smoothly as water. “I am the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. Water of the earth and the skies bows to me. As will you.”

You weren’t sure when you had started shaking. For the first time in a long while, your anger was doused. You looked between your tattoo and his matching glow and realized just how powerless you were without your vision and within this dragon’s clutches.

Despite all his flaws, after all your years together, Neuvillette knew how to read you. He immediately stilled, a look of panic contorting his handsome features. The ethereal glow around him faded, and the rain began to subside into a dull mist.

He wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you with desperate abandon. “My love, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me—please, forgive me.” Another shiver wracked your form, which prompted him to hold you tighter and bury his nose into your hair, exhaling deeply. “I have made a grave transgression by frightening you so dearly, but I pledge to never lose my temper in such a manner again.”

Neuvillette caressed your cheek and tilted your chin up to gaze longingly into your eyes. “You are my entire world, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” He swiftly picked you up bridal style, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Come. I’ll draw you a warm bath with fresh sea salts. I believe we’re done here for tonight.”

Wordlessly, you let him take you home. You can’t argue with a dragon.

#yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #reader insert #yandere #opera epiclese #fontaine #guess who makes a surprise appearance #childe #tartaglia

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pulisicsgirl · 3 months

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in my hour of need - mason mount

summary: eight months after the end of their relationship, Y/N and Mason find themselves at the same event—a charity gala—and the night’s events leave them both unsure of where they stand with each other

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings/tags: inappropriate joke is made about the reader, angst, self-doubt, exes-to-lovers, hurt/comfort (hee hee hee), ends with fluff of course don’t worry, lots of crying involved along the way

requested: no

based off of this concept from @mountttmase and @saltyheartnightmare

A/N: I’m so excited to finally have a fic ready to post for y’all again!!! I’ve literally been working on this one for the last three months, so it’s definitely a relief to put it out there! This is set during the TFSL gala that Mason attended back at the beginning of March, so some things might be a bit”outdated” by now… I hope yall enjoy!!!

Seeing Mason tonight had been more difficult than you had anticipated.

Eight months had passed since the fairly amicable breakup between the two of you. Things had ended on fairly good terms, but it had been the little things that built up that had led to the end of your relationship. Between Mason’s injury along with the situation at United and new, huge career opportunities that had arisen for you in the last year, the two of you seemed to be in completely different places in your lives. It seemed like you barely saw each other for a few minutes after you woke up in the morning and a few minutes before you fell asleep at night.

In the end, the disconnect was too much, and the two of you agreed to end things before they could get ugly.

You were thankful to have avoided the period of fighting and bickering that you knew would inevitably come with the track that you and Mason were on. Your relationship with him had many fond memories attached to it, and you didn’t want to see those tainted by a messy breakup. But every day that passed, you missed waking up in his bed, being by his side, spending time with him— all of it.

The two of you had tried your best to remain friends, truly. You had texted back and forth a bit, doing your best to keep up with each other’s lives and keep each other updated. You met for coffee about three weeks after the split, but after that your communication had quickly fallen off. You wondered if, like you, Mason had realized that trying to maintain a friendship had grown too painful. If, like you, it was killing him to have you sitting across from him and not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to call you his.

But there was no way for you to know— the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that he was making an appearance at the charity gala. After all, it was him that had connected you with Together For Short Lives, the organization that Mason had a long-standing relationship with and also the organization benefitting from tonight’s events. Mason’s passion for the charity and its work had sparked something within you, and you had quickly pulled some strings to get your workplace involved with it as well— all of this while you were still together.

So when your boss told you about his contribution to the charity gala and has asked you to be the representative for the business at the auction itself, you knew that seeing Mason would be inevitable.

But it’s been eight months since the split—seven since you last saw him. Surely, you’d be fine by now, you had thought.

Unfortunately, you had thought wrong.

The first glimpse of him in the sleek black suit had sent a sharp pang through your chest, a wave of emotions crashing over you. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed and the softness of it immediately made you think of how it felt when you would run your fingers through it, or the scratch of his beard when you would cradle his jaw in your palm. His shoulders seemed to have grown broader, if that was even possible. His eyes looked brighter, and he seemed far more well-rested than you had seen him in the months leading up to your breakup.

And then the terrifying thought had hit you.

Maybe he was better off without you.

Maybe the breakup had been good for him. Maybe you had been the thing draining him in the last months of your relationship.

You felt the tears spring to your eyes as soon as the thought crossed your mind, blinking them away quickly.

But the thought continued to plague you as the night went on. There were a thousand things that were making you feel unsure of yourself and the thought that your relationship with Mason had actually been detrimental to him was just the cherry on top.

This just wasn’t the kind of event you usually found yourself at, even less a setting that you felt comfortable in. You would much prefer a quite night in or the opportunity to fade into the background. When you had been with Mason, you found yourself at a few events like this one, but you always had him at your side. Often you would allow him to navigate the evening for you, so you didn’t even have to think about anything. Tonight, instead of standing next to you so you cold hold tightly onto his arm when you felt unsteady, he was 100 feet away, engaged in conversation with someone else.

To make matters worse, you had asked a friend of yours to help you find and choose a dress for the evening, and she had insisted you would look and feel great in this elegant, low-cut, dark green dress that had an open back. At the time, she had convinced you that the piece complimented your figure and would make you feel confident and sexy. However, it was completely out of your comfort zone, and you regretted your decision to listen to her as you tugged on parts of the dress to try to cover yourself up more throughout the night.

Between the unfamiliar environment, the dress, and Mason’s presence, everything left you feeling quite unsure of yourself.

When you reached your seating assignment, you were relieved to see that you were familiar with a few of the individuals that were sitting at your table—acquaintances that worked for the same company as you who, no doubt, were also sent as representatives for the charity gala. The relief was short-lived, however, when you realized that, directly in front of you, a mere two tables over, Mason’s seat was directly in your line of sight.

You did your best to sink into the shadows, allowing conversation to flow around you without making any contribution, unless someone directly asked you a question. You also tried your hardest not to look over at Mason— this sight of him happily engaging in conversation, seemingly unaffected by your presence, was too much for your heart to handle.

A wave of relief washed over you when someone got up on the stage, removing any pressure to engage in conversation at the table as everyone turned their attention to the announcer. He spoke a bit about Together for Short Lives and the work that they did, soon announcing that it was time for the items to be auctioned off.

Some of the auction items piqued your interest, seeming like items or experiences that you thought you might enjoy. But any sort of intrigue faded when you heard the amounts of money that some of the gala’s patrons were volunteering for them, quickly realizing you were way out of your depth in this room of people.

Before too long, the announcer introduced a “Manchester United Experience,” involving a tour of the team’s facility, accompanied by the team’s star boy himself. Mason approached the stage, walking up the short flight of stairs as applause rang throughout the room. You didn’t hear much of the discussion of the experience as you got caught up in watching Mason and the playful way he interacted with the announcer and the crowd. His silly boyishness sent a pang through your heart, missing the playful way he used to interact with you.

You could’ve sworn his eyes caught yours as they swept the room, and you flashed him a short, forced smile as a sort of sign of goodwill. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you wanted to show him that you didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, despite the loss of contact.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the announcer who had just asked him a question— one that Mason had to ask him to repeat.

Soon Mason was leaving the stage, having earned an ungodly amount of money for TFSL with his promised tour of Old Trafford.

A sick feeling settled in your gut, knowing it couldn’t be much longer before your company’s contribution was auctioned off. The mere thought of stepping onto that stage sent a rush of fear through your veins.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing to the side of the stage, awaiting your queue to join the announcer on it. Your palms felt sweaty, your heart racing as you tried your best to compose yourself. Applause rang through the room, and you put all of your focus into not tripping as you walked up the stairs.

The room felt ten times bigger from atop the stage, filled with many more people than you had realized were in attendance. You tried to focus on smiling and nodding at the appropriate moments as the announcer explained what your company was auctioning off.

“And of course, we’re very appreciative of Miss… uhm…”

“Y/L/N,” you spoke quietly as the announcer trailed off.

“Yes, we’re very appreciative of Miss Y/L/N being here with us tonight,” the announcer resumed his charismatic personality after it had faltered briefly. “She’s certainly doing her part to raise money for a good cause. I mean, with this much skin on show, that has to be worth a few extra pounds on your bid, right?”

Your stomach sank to your feet as laughter erupted in the large room. You felt the heat in your cheeks, your smile faltering at his words. You suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious of yourself as you stood on the stage, feeling like a zoo animal being laid bare and displayed for everyone’s entertainment.

“With that, we’re going to start the bidding off at…” The announcers voice faded as the room felt like it was closing in on you. Your eyes flicked through the crowd, jumping from face to face until you found the one you were looking for— Mason.

While everyone else seemed to still be composing themselves from the eruption of laughter at the joke the announcer had made at your expense, Mason’s eyes met yours with the saddest expression you though you had ever seen. You could just barely make out his lips mouthing the words it’s okay, you’re okay, before your misty eyes could no longer make out his face.

You composed yourself just long enough for the announcer to finish off the auction, and you offered him a forced smile before you rushed off of the stage.

All you knew was that you needed to be anywhere but this room. You needed to get out, away from all of the people who had just witnessed your very public humiliation.

You made a beeline toward the back of the large hall that everyone was seated in, spotting the double doors that you knew led out to the hallway. Your heels click on the floor as you push through the doors and find the exit out to the decorative garden off of the side of the building being used for the gala. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good, you rushed outside, ignoring the chill that rushed through you as the cold air met your skin. Moving quickly away from the building, you ducked behind some hedges in the hope that no one would see you.

Your breathing was heavy as you tried your best to dampen the emotions welling up inside of you. Your throat felt tight as you fought back the tears of embarrassment, frustration, and regret. Forcing yourself to breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you did your best to wipe gently at the corners of your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t ruin the makeup you had done only a few hours before.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call from around the corner. Your heart sank as you recognized the gentle tone and the footsteps let you know that he was close. This was surely not the circumstances you had hoped to be in when you spoke to him for the first time in months.

You turned your back just in time for Mason to round the corner and find you hiding away in your little nook. There was nothing you hated more than the idea of letting him see you cry in this moment.

“Y/N, love-“

“I’m fine, Mason.” Your voice came out harsher than you had meant for it to. “Really, I’m okay. Just go back to the auction.”

Undeterred by the way you had spoken, Mason took a couple of steps closer to you. “No, you’re not, Y/N. I know you better than that.”

You couldn’t respond, and you knew he hadn’t missed the small sniffle you had let out as you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

It was only a moment before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your arm, turning you to face him. Your head was bowed low, still unwilling to let him see your misty eyes.

“C’mere, love,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You couldn’t keep yourself from returning the gesture, your arms wrapped under his as you pressed your palms into his broad back to hold him close. You tucked your face into his neck and suddenly, your heart felt more settled than it had in months.

“He had no right to say anything like that— about you or about anyone,” Mason mumbled into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to your temple. “It was completely inappropriate, and you have every right to feel upset. I’m so sorry.”

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, holding you closer to him. You didn’t fight it at all, settling into him more and taking comfort in the proximity.

When he could tell that your breathing had steadied, Mason pulled back, still holding you with one arm as he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“There she is.” He brought his free hand up, brushing his thumb gently under your eyes to wipe away a tear that had fallen. The gesture was so gentle and intimate that you felt like your knees were about to give out, thankful that he still had one arm around you to steady you. “Whatever waterproof makeup you’re using is working because you still look perfect,” he joked, warmth flooding through him at the soft giggle you let out before dropping your forehead onto his chest.

“For the record, your dress is beautiful,” Mason said softly. You knew he must have sensed your discomfort with how much skin you had on show, even before the gala announcer had made any comment about it. “And, in the least creepy, predatory way possible, you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wanting to convey your gratitude to him while trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. The one thing you did like about the mostly open back of the dress is that you could feel Mason’s palm flattened directly against your skin as he held you close, his thumb rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. This, combined with the look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place as he looked down at you, made your skin feel like it was on fire, the heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks.

You brought your hands to his chest, holding the lapels of his jacket in your hand before you spoke quietly. “We should go back inside before anyone realizes we’ve gone.” You felt suddenly overwhelmed by the interaction with him, feeling yourself falling back into old habits without even intending to.

Mason unwound his hands from your waist, seeming a bit discouraged by your comment as he merely nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You did so, holding onto his elbow to keep yourself steady as he led you back inside.

It was quiet between the two of you, neither sure what to say to the other after the intimate moment in the garden. Once back inside you squeezed his elbow gently, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up really quickly, but I’ll see you back out there,” with a gentle smile. Mason nodded, letting you step away from him and into the bathroom.

In truth, while you did feel a need to freshen up a bit after the tears you had shed outside, you needed a moment to collect yourself— not because of the auction announcer’s comments, but because of Mason.

You stood at the small sink in the ladies’ room, watching yourself in the mirror as you tried to stop the way your head seemed to be spinning. The last time you had seen Mason was seven months ago, engaged in stiff conversation because neither of you knew how to speak to each other after the breakup. But now, he had come to your rescue without a second thought and held you as if the breakup had never even happened.

And it felt right…

You shook your head, telling yourself not to read too much into it— Mason is a caring person and just because he ran to your side when someone had said something hurtful about you doesn’t mean he wants you back. You were self-aware enough to recognize that you had a tendency to let your thoughts run away with you, and you did your best to shut it down before it got out of hand.

At the same time, Mason’s mind was also running wild. His brain felt as if it was under some sort of fog, intoxicated by the feeling of being able to touch your skin again. He was like an addict who had quit, cold turkey, some months ago, and the first taste of your proximity had nearly done him in. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to be so close to you again— to feel your weight against his body, to smell your shampoo that was still the same, to hear your soft voice, muffled by his own neck, your gentle breaths fanning over his skin.

He was worried that maybe he had been too forward— maybe you hadn’t wanted him to run after you. He didn’t want you to think he felt like he needed to rescue you from every poor situation, but after hearing the announcer’s comments and seeing the way it had so clearly upset you (even though everyone else seemed to have overlooked it), he knew he couldn’t just let you be on your own.

He been wary of overwhelming you, but it felt right to pull you into his arms out in the garden. It felt right to hold you close to him and rub gentle, soothing circles into your back with his thumb, the way he’d always done before.

Mason felt unsure of himself. He worried that your hurry to get back inside was to get away from him. He pondered with the idea of going back into the gala so it didn’t seem like he was hovering. But he battled with himself internally, thinking that you may not have wanted to be left to your own devices.

He hated that the months he had spent apart from you had robbed him of his ability to read you. He just wished he could figure out what was going on in your head.

In the bathroom, if you hadn’t had a full face of makeup on, you would’ve taken this opportunity to splash your face with cold water. However, a few deep breaths while you told yourself to get it together would have to do, and you exited the bathroom, planning to find your way back to your table and leave as soon as the event was over. It would be best, you thought, to not engage too much with Mason to avoid getting your hopes up before they were inevitably crushed.

Those plans were cut short the moment you stepped out of the bathroom and into the building’s foyer. There, Mason was waiting for you, and your stomach did a flip at the soft smile that took over his face when he lifted his head and saw you.

A wave of relief that you hadn’t expected washed over you at the sight of him waiting there.

“It sounds like they’ve wrapped up the auction in there.” Mason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the large hall that you had fled from just a bit ago. You could hear the sound of loud conversation and laughter, signaling that Mason was, indeed correct, and the guests would be starting to exit the hall soon.

Unsure of what you were meant to say, you were thankful when Mason spoke up again. “Look, I’m here, and you’re welcome to stick with me if you’re still feeling a bit overwhelmed, but if you want me to just leave you be, I understa-”

“No, please,” you rushed to cut him off, the thought of having the face the room full of people before you alone sending a feeling of dread down your spine. “I mean… I just… can I just walk with you?” Your voice was small when you spoke again, feeling pathetic for being incapable of facing an event without him by your side.

A warm feeling spread across Mason’s chest at your words, feeling a sense of pride that his presence made you feel even a little bit safer in the unfamiliar environment. Wordlessly, he offered his arm to you again, a reassuring smile on his lips.

As much as you wanted to portray yourself as an independent person who was able to take care of yourself, you had to admit that the rest of the evening felt much easier with Mason at your side. It was so easy to slip back into the same old routine—everyone wanted to talk to the star footballer, and you were happy to stand quietly at his side while he shook hands and unleashed his irresistible charm on each one.

Mason kept you close to him at all times, and the warmth of him settled your nerves tremendously. The gentle placement of his hand on your lower back sent tingles up your spine every time, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of overstepping.

It wasn’t much longer before Mason was leaning down, mumbling in your ear to ask if you were ready to leave. He knew this wasn’t your scene at all and had been looking for an opportunity to get you out of there since the two of you had stepped back into the gathering hall.

You had to hold back a shiver as his breath fanned over your neck, nodding in response. You let him know you just had to pop over to your table to grab your things and he nodded, following as you led the way.

Once you had retrieved your clutch and bid as quick of a goodbye as you could muster to those that were still lingering at your table, you and Mason turned to leave, heading back toward the set of doors you had entered through. The hall had grown more crowded, and as you weaved between tables, you allowed Mason to grasp your hand, leading the way through the sea of people so you wouldn’t be separated.

As you entered the foyer, Mason tugged you forward gently so that you returned to his side. The two of you exchanged a short smile.

“Is your hotel close by?” you asked, trying to make a bit of small talk as the two of you walked toward the exit.

When the bridge of Mason’s nose went red, a shy but unsure smile on his face, you slapped a hand over your face, realizing the double meaning of your question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you felt the heat in your face as you, no doubt, were turning bright red. “I was just trying to make small talk. Clearly, I’m not good at it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Uh, I’m actually making the drive back to Manchester tonight. We’ve got training tomorrow morning, so I’ve got to get home.” Mason reached the door, holding it open for you. “What about you? Are you nearby?”

“Yeah, actually.” The two of you reached the sidewalk in front of the building, coming to a stop as you turned toward each other. “I’m supposed to be a hotel just a bit that way.” You pointed behind him, toward the accommodations that your job was paying for.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you.

“You know… you’re welcome to tag along back to Manchester with me, if you wanted to. I could use the company to keep me awake.” Mason smiled softly at you, remembering how much you hated staying in hotels.

“Don’t you have Lewis or someone with you? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Mason shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet, “just me.” He was subtly rocking back and forth on his feet, and you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

Getting to go home, rather than sleeping in an uncomfortable hotel bed did sound pretty nice after the turn your night had taken.

Mason watched your eyebrows furrow in thought, an anxious feeing settling in his tummy as he awaited your response.

“You’re sure?”

Mason did his best to conceal the excitement he felt at the idea of getting to spend a couple more hours with you. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Come on, you and I both know you won’t get any sleep in that hotel bed.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right.

It wasn’t long before you were ducking into the passenger seat of Mason’s car, making sure the bottom of your dress was all the way in before Mason closed the door behind you.

The drive started out quiet, neither of you sure how to navigate the situation that you found yourself in. But as soon as you asked Mason about the FA Cup quarterfinal win over Liverpool where he had made his return following injury, his face lit up and things felt like they were almost back to normal.

You did your best to keep the topic of conversation on Mason and his life, not wanting to speak about yourself. Any time he seemed to be coming to the end of one topic, you were sure to ask another question before he had the chance to ask one to you.

Because, truth be told, life had been nothing but dull since the two of you had parted ways. Seeing him tonight was the most interesting thing to happen to you since… well, since the last time you’d seen him.

It was no secret that the transition to Manchester had been difficult for the both of you. There was no doubt it had contributed to the ending of your relationship. Leaving behind your friends, your old flat, and all of the things you had known had been no easy task. Thankfully, you had been able to stay in the same line of work, merely transferring to a new location. But you had struggled to adjust to the new, unfamiliar city, even more so when you didn’t have Mason at your side. Weekend visits back to London to visit your old friends were all that had kept you going in the last months.

As you listened to Mason telling stories of all of the fun things he had gotten up to with the boys on the team that he had grown closer with, the self-doubt creeped back in. He seemed to be doing so much better since the two of you called things off, and again your mind told you that maybe he was better off without you.

Mason noticed the change in your demeanor almost immediately. The car grew quiet, and you sat with your head leaned against the window, watching the lights as they passed. It may have been months since he last saw you, but he could recognize the signs of you overthinking from a mile away, unsure of whether it was about the announcer’s comments from earlier in the night or the fact that you were sitting in a car with him.

Wanting to provide a bit of reassurance, Mason reached over, taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his face, and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. He placed your hand back in your lap, moving to put his back on the steering wheel, but your grip tightened slightly to prevent him from doing so. Your head remained pressed against the glass, but the small gesture brought a smile to Mason’s face as he shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Mason didn’t press you for conversation, allowing you the space to process the events of the night however you needed to. Before long, Mason heard the soft sound of your deep, steady breathing, and a quick glance in your direction revealed that you had drifted off to sleep, your hand relaxed in his. The dull ache that had settled in his chest all night grew a bit sharper as he stole a few glances in your direction, admiring the peaceful expression on your face.

As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to put on a brave face and talk about all of the amazing things that had been going on in his like recently, he couldn’t deny…

He missed you.

He missed having you like this, at his side at the end of a long day. He missed the feeling of ease that washed over him just by knowing you were close by and being able to have that same effect on you. He missed catching up with you at the end of the day, instead of trying to accurately recap the seven months that had passed since he’d last seen you.

He just missed you being in his life and had spent the last eight months trying to find out how to get you back in it.

You were jostled awake as you heard the sound of a car door closing. You sat up straight, blinking your eyes a few times as you tried your best to figure out where you were. You recognized the interior of Mason’s car, a flash of confusion running through you before the memories of the night came flooding back in.

The car door at your side opened, Mason appearing at your side as he crouched down, offering you the gentlest of smiles.

“Hey there, love,” he spoke softly, and the kind look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “You fell asleep on the way back, and I realized I don’t know where your new flat is.”

The little flutter of your heart quickly died, the reality of your failed relationship crashing back in after you had been able to put it to the back of your mind for much of the night since Mason had come to your aid.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. “I’ll just order a car, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be silly, just stay here. I’ve got some extra things you can use, and I’m going into training late tomorrow anyway, so I can drop you at home on my way,” Mason smiled at you, and the way his eyes shone hopefully meant you wouldn’t need much convincing, whispering a soft “okay” in reply.

Mason took your hand, helping you out of the car and leading you inside as you wiped your bleary eyes. He led you to his room, releasing your hand as he wandered through the room, laying out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for you to wear. He wandered to the bathroom for a few moments. When he emerged, you watched with confusion as he collected a few things in his hands and walked toward his door.

“You can sleep in here tonight. I still had some of your skincare products left over from before, so they’re out on the counter,” he smiled at you. “I’ll just be in the guest room, if you need anything.”

His generosity caught you off-guard, and before you could come up with a response, he placed a quick kiss to the top of your head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood in the middle of the room for a moment, just looking around, taking it all in. You never would have suspected that you’d find yourself here again, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the turn that this night had taken.

Finally snapping yourself out of it, you slipped out of your dress, pulling Mason’s shirt over your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the laundry detergent he always used brought a wave of emotion crashing over you, and your lower lip wobbled as you walked into the bathroom.

Along with a spare toothbrush that he had set out for you, all of your skincare products were lined up on the counter, and the thought that he had held onto them for you after all this time was what finally caused the tears the spill down your cheeks, the emotions of the night finally catching up with you.

When you crawled into the bed, face washed and feeling fresher after the long night, you allow the tears to flow, pressing your face into Mason’s pillow.

All of it was so overwhelming. Seeing him again after so long. How unsure you had felt of yourself throughout the night. Being humiliated in front of an entire audience. The way Mason had run to your side without a moment’s hesitation. The way it had felt so natural to fall back into conversation with him, to touch him, for him to touch you. Being back in the house that you had once shared with him.

It was all too much.

Not even 30 feet away, Mason was lying on his back in the guest bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. There was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, the thought of you in his bed only a few steps away enough to keep him awake.

After an hour had passed, accompanied by only his racing thoughts, Mason toyed with the idea of sneaking down to his room to see if you were awake. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to you, and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get to say them soon.

But he thought better of it, guessing that you were probably already asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

However, Mason had guessed wrong. Instead, you were lying on your side, legs tucked up close to your body, staring at the small, framed photo of the two of you on Mason’s side table. It had always been there during your relationship, and the thought that he had kept it in the time since you had split brought such a weight of sadness over you that you felt sick.

Did he miss you the way you missed him? Did he, too, regret not fighting harder for your relationship with every day that passed?

The thought kept you awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Mason awoke the next morning, a heavy exhaustion weighed on him as he had only slept a few hours, tossing and turning the entire time. He crawled out of bed and slipped a shirt over his head, his feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as he moved down the hallway to check on you. He noticed that the door to his room was already open, and when he peeked his head in, you were nowhere to be found.

From the way the blankets were shifted, Mason could tell that you had slept on his side of the bed, and his chest tightened at the thought.

The sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen caused Mason’s ears to perk up and led him in that direction.

As Mason rounded the corner, he found you, with your back facing him, standing in front of the oven. Your hair, falling across your shoulders, still held some of the curl that you had done for the event the night prior. Mason’s heart clenched at the sight of you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

A few pans and bowls were scattered across the stovetop and counters, and Mason recognized all of the components of the hearty breakfast you used to make when both of you had the day off. The combination of smells was so specific, and the déjà vu nearly made him dizzy.

You turned around, reaching for a bowl on the counter and jumped slightly when you saw Mason there.

“Sorry,” he breathed, still at a bit of a loss for words. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

You just gave him a small smile and a short “s’okay” as you turned back to the stove. “Sorry if I woke you.” Your voice sounded so small—Mason hated it. He hated the tension that hung in the air between the two of you. He hated the fact that you had nearly become strangers to each other.

In the hours that you had spent, lying awake with your thoughts running wild in Mason’s bed, you had resolved to avoid complicating things further than they already had been. Things were awkward enough between the two of you after Mason had graciously come to the rescue, despite the ending of your relationship, and you were determined to make it home without making it worse.

You owed it to yourself— your feelings for Mason were still there, hidden just beneath the surface. But you refused to put yourself out there and put your heart through that pain again.

You wished you had it in you to be cold with him, completely cutting off any chance of rekindling something between the two of you— any risk of getting your hopes up. But you knew Mason, and you knew that he often wore his heart on his sleeve, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that, either.

But despite your resolve and determination, the sorrow-filled gaze in Mason’s eyes had already begun to pierce through the armor that you had put around your heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Mason slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the island countertop. His eyes followed you as you finished preparing the last of the breakfast. You dished out two plates— a portion for yourself and another, larger portion for Mason.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know?” Mason spoke softly as you set the plate in front of him.

You shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the island from him as you stared down at your own plate. “It’s the least I could do. It’s your food anyway,” you mumbled, poking at your eggs with a fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Mason said, earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Mason couldn’t help but feel discouraged by your stony demeanor. He had hoped that after the night prior, the two of you might be on the right path to sorting things out between you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He kept stealing quick glances at you as he ate, savoring every delicious bite. But he could tell how uneasy you felt as you stood there, tucking your hair behind your ear as you took small bites from your plate.

The tension was thick as the two of you ate in silence, neither one sure how to even begin the conversation. Did you talk about last night, or leave the topic untouched?

The longer the silence stretched between the two of you, the heavier the weight on your heart grew. As much as you had tried not to get your hopes up, and as many times as you told yourself that your relationship with Mason was well and truly over, a small part of you had still hoped that he would say something this morning— anything, really. That small part of you wanted to believe that this chance encounter was the key—a sign that the two of you needed to find your way back to each other.

But despite it all, the spark that you had hoped was still there seemed to have been snuffed out.

You kept your eyes glued to your plate, afraid that Mason would see them shining with tears and start asking questions. You didn’t want him to think you were pathetic— needing him to rescue you the night before and now here, standing in his kitchen, crying because he didn’t want you back.

You took a breath and steeled yourself to pack up your things from his room and get the fastest Uber back home you could manage.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you scraped the last of your food into the trashcan, no longer able to stomach another bite, and placed the empty dish in the sink. You left the kitchen as quickly as you could, trying to hide your face from Mason as the first tears fell.

Mason was taken by surprise at your sudden rush to leave the room, the noise a stark contrast to the silence that had hung thick in the air. He watched your back as you walked out without so much as a glance in his direction.

His stomach sank. He had hoped, after lying awake all night thinking of you, that you had been cooking breakfast for him as a sort of sign—a signal that you wanted to talk things over again and revisit the topic of him and you. But the unpleasant aura that had remained between the two of you while you ate had gotten you no closer to that conversation.

Maybe he had read too far into things. Maybe the breakfast had just been a ‘thank you’ for driving you back to Manchester last night. Maybe he had pushed too far and inviting you to stay at his was too much, too soon.

Mason pushed his plate away from him, dropping his head into his hands and huffing a sigh as he felt his eyes burn with tears that surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much the last 24 hours had gotten his hopes up for reigniting a relationship with you until you seemed to have walked away from it altogether.

It was almost like he could feel his heart breaking all over again.

But no, Mason resolved. He refused to let you walk away from him again, not until he had fully expressed to you how deeply he missed you, how much he still cared for you.

With renewed determination, Mason stood from his chair and nearly ran to his bedroom.

Standing outside of his own bedroom door, Mason hesitated for a moment, again overthinking his decision to confront the issue head-on.

But that didn’t last for more than a second before he was tapping his knuckles gently on the door three times.

“You can come in,” he heard your small voice.

When he opened the door, slowly, he found you just returning from the bathroom, several of your own items in hand. As you attempted to collect all of your things, Mason didn’t miss the tear you tried to inconspicuously wipe from your cheek or the soft sniffle you tried to hide with a cough. His heart softened— seeing you cry had always been one of the things he hated most.

“I have an Uber on the way. Should be here any minute. I don’t want to ask you to drive me again,” you spoke hurriedly, as if overcompensating for your fragile state by talking too much. “I can, um, just wash these clothes and drop them off sometime. I really-“

You were cut off when you turned to walk around to the other side of the bed and instead, ran straight into Mason’s chest.

He steadied you with a hand on each of your arms. He held an unreadable expression on his face, and you knew there was no hiding the tear streaks on your cheeks now. However, Mason’s eyes shone with as he looked down at you.

It was silent for several seconds until Mason spoke in a whisper, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

And the silence returned. Your thoughts were spinning a mile a minute. Your mouth dropped open, your brain making its most valiant attempt at forming a response, and yet no words came to you.

Mason took your loss for words as an invitation to continue. “I miss mornings like this. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up next to you. I miss talking to you at the end of the day,” his lower lip wobbled as he paused to collect himself. “I miss you, Y/N.”

His words pierced right to your heart. Whatever walls you had built to keep him out were nowhere near strong enough and you could already feel them beginning to crumble.

“Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since then wishing I could go back and change it all. I would’ve fought harder for you— for us.” Mason pleaded softly. “Seeing you last night made me realize that none of that has gone away, I still feel the way I did before. Please— please tell me you feel it, too.”

The tears poured freely from your eyes now, and there was no holding them back. You rolled your lips into your mouth, attempting to hold in a sob. Mason’s hands left your arms, coming up to cradle your cheeks as you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumbs swiped at your cheeks, trying to dry your tears.

“I can’t, Mason. W-We can’t,” your voice trembled.

“Why can’t we?” Mason was desperate, resting his forehead against yours. The proximity was making your head spin, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face too familiar, too overwhelming.

“Who’s to say it won’t be the same as the last time?” you cried, finally looking back at him. “I can’t go through that pain, not again.”

“We decide that it’ll be different.” Mason was ready to get on his knees and beg if he had to. “Things will be better this time— I’ll be better.”

He knew that what you had was worth fighting for, and if there was any chance—even a shred of hope—that you would give him another shot, he had to take it.

You looked up into his tear-filled eyes as he whispered, “I just know I can’t lose you, Y/N, not again.”

Like a dam breaking loose, a sob wracked your body at his words. Whatever had been left of the walls you had built up came crashing to the ground. Mason was quick to pull you into his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles into your back.

It was like all of the hurt and emotions from the last eight months tore through you at once. Mason, feeling the way your frame was shaking, held you tightly to him, as if he were the only thing holding you together in that moment. He kissed the top of your head, and you could hear him sniffle, knowing that he was crying, too.

As your cries grew softer and you began to calm down, you clutched Mason’s shirt tightly in your fists, afraid that if you released him, he would disappear.

Mason eventually leaned back to look at you and you lifted your head from where it was buried in his chest. There was the softest hint of a smile on his face as he tried to wipe away the remaining tears.

“I-If we do this…” Mason’s tummy flipped at your words, clinging to the sense of hope that they brought. “If we give this another chance, we have to take it slow.”

Mason nodded quickly, his eyes flicking all over your face for any sign of hesitation. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. “I’ve missed you so much, Masey.”

Mason pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, his heart soaring at the use of his nickname. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving— never again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your face into his neck and hugged him again, trying to drink if the feeling of being back in his arms. You let him overwhelm your senses— the feeling of his arms around your body, his comforting scent as you breathed him in, the sound of his heartbeat that calmed you so easily.

“I know we’re taking it slow, but I have a couple more hours until training,” Mason spoke softly as you pulled back, looking up at him. A hopeful smile played on his lips. “Will you stick around? Cancel your Uber. I can take you home on my way.”

“Are you sure?” There was still that shred of lingering doubt, the fear of imposing yourself.

“I’m so sure,” he smiled. “I don’t think i’m ready to let go of you just yet.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips before you whispered a soft “okay.”

Never, when you left for the gala the night before, did you think this was where you would find yourself—back at Mason’s house, as he led you to the couch to cuddle while you talked about what your next steps would be. But as you lay in his arms, admiring the soft scattering of freckles across his cheeks, you felt a piece of your heart that had been missing those last few months begin to heal.

And you couldn’t be more thankful that you had your boy back.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!!! 🤍

tag list:

@hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @sid-vii @captainpulisic

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #footballer fic #footballer imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb

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jolapeno · 5 months

Text

midnight bedsheets

joel miller x f!reader | joel masterlist

summary: you and joel find some bedsheets.

wordcount: 1.2k warnings: fluff/little smutty - allusions to smut. mostly fluff those guys. i needed this. post outbreak. joel is smitten. soft!joel because he's my fave. AN: written on my phone so, mind the errors.

When the two of you had split up, Joel had a feeling that you wouldn’t look for one goddamn thing he’d asked you to.

He’d seen it.

That glimmer of fucking mischief shimmering in your eyes, tracing your lips with the tip of your tongue, hand on your hip, I’ll be sure to keep my pretty eyes open, Miller.

He doubted you would. But he wouldn’t, and couldn’t, doubt your eyes were pretty.

They had burned themselves into him by now. To the point he knows the exact shades that make them up; all well known to him, able to pick them out from a lineup, if he so needed to.

Having seen them in all manner of ways—looking up at him, next to him, underneath him. Seen them when the sun shined, when the snow fell; when the rain fell and the thunder clapped.

Kicking his foot against something picked over, he listens for your boots, for you turning over your side of the store. Clicking his tongue, shaking his head, heading your way, knowing, before he finds you, that you’ve located something they weren’t looking for.

Sometimes, he doesn’t like knowing you so well. Finding you on your hands and knees, ass in the air—hips wiggling as you stretch yourself, reaching and reaching, shirt having risen and exposing more of your skin to him. Tempting him, like the fucking temptress you are—

“Y’need any help there?”

He shouldn’t think what a sight it is, but he does.

Flicking his thumb against his finger, fighting himself about getting down onto his knees behind you and reminding you of how good he can make you feel.

Memories of you like this, his knees on the outside of yours, the feel of you enveloping him as he slid his cock into your—

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure—”

Whatever you’d been grasping for, must have come loose. Because you shoot up, resting back on your knees—head looking over your shoulder, a smirk on your face.

And not just any smirk. That smirk. The one that makes him hot under the collar of his jacket and makes blood rush to his cock.

It’s the one you sent him when out in the river washing two days ago, when you flung your soaked shirt at him—the slap sounding out in the quiet of the world. Should come warm me up, Miller. A thing he repeated in a grumble under his breath when he removed his boots, layers and trudged out to pull your wet, clean skin against him.

Now, though, he watches in real-time as the smirk shifts into something softer when you stand—when the thing in your hand comes into view. Wrapped in crinkling plastic packaging, the fabric inside folded intricately as he catches the words: Deluxe and Bedsheets.

He watches as you smear your fingers over the front, removing the thick dust, it clagging and clinging to your skin as you try to peer through the muck at what you’d found.

“What y’found?”

“Bedsheets,” you reply, not looking up—voice distant, soft, almost too soft for you.

His weight shifts as he swallows. Already imagining what you’re thinking. Remembering summer breezes in backyards, big sheets billowing, drying off as laughter plays. Hell, he can hear it himself—practically could lose himself to the memory if he tries hard enough.

“We’ve not got room for it.”

Looking up, your eyes narrow—a little bit of fury in your eyes as you roll your jaw. “But, we’ll make room. Right?”

Right. He thinks.

“Joel?”

“Fine.”

He’s not sure when he’s stopped being able to say no to you.

It’s days until the two of you are back in the familiar peeling walls.

The scent is both dire and familiar all at once as he helps you remove the bag from your shoulder, it thudding on loose floorboards as he begins to remove his.

He waits. Waiting for the moment you ask for it, the thing he’s somehow folded and squeezed into his pack. The thing which sat at the base, stared at him when he dug in for his bottle or foil-wrapped food.

You last thirty seconds.

He’d been counting. Grumbling for water as he tells you he’ll grab it, hands finding the plastic with ease—briefly, allowing himself to grasp at it, feel that familiar texture that reminds him of normalcy and shopping.

“You gonna help me?”

Shaking his head, Joel grabs the glass you’ve poured for him. Taking a sip. Letting you stew.

“Think of it like this, the quicker you help me make the bed, the quicker you can make these sheets yours.”

Chewing his tongue, he swirls the murky water in his glass, giving you a minute, not quite biting immediately. “How am I gonna do that?”

Shrugging, your fingers slide down the buttons of your shirt, popping not one, but two open. “Use your imagination, Miller.”

“Filthy, woman,” he snorts, glass slamming down as he moves around the table as you laugh.

A sound that’s beautiful, and warm. A thing he won’t admit, even as he helps, as he takes a side of the bed before your hand brushes his, handing him the packet. Reading you. Tilting his head as he rips it open, being sure to focus on your eyes, knowing they'll widen, biting the inside of his cheek when they do.

And he knows that look. The one that, if you weren't so stubborn, would be matched with your mouth falling open, all in awe.

It makes him half tempted to move around to your side of the bed and see if he’s right. Undo the button on your jeans, slide his thick fingers against the fabric covering your mound, and see if there's a patch, a damp slither as he spots you pushing your thighs together.

But, your face is blank. Unreadable. A thing you're good at, so easily able to bury the effect he has on you as you begin to hum.

A thing he tries not to shake his head at, because it’s nice. Normal. For a moment able to close his eyes and pretend they’re in a bedroom, in a house, something they’ve chosen rather than been given.

It running through his mind. As it does sometimes.

What you’d be like if the world hadn’t pushed you to adapt, whether you’d be as charmed by him as you are now. His eyes catching yours as the two of you shake your pillows in the new sheet—a smile there, kissing your eyes and gracing your lips.

And he hopes you would have been.

Thinks maybe you might have been.

It’s only when it’s done, the bed dressed, does he see the beauty of what you’d seen. The sheets a deep blue, almost midnight, decorated with intricately stitched swirls and stars that break up the expanse.

“It’s like that time we hunkered under that tree,” you say, eyes gazing down at it. “When we saw all those stars.”

He hums. Taking the corner between his finger and thumb, feeling the rich cotton—how it’s not over worn, likely has its thread count.

“Remember what we did under them?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he flicks his gaze up at you—chin still tucked to his chin. Seeing how another button is undone, exposing the valley between your breasts.

“Get on the bed.”

This time, he didn’t have to ask you twice. Thank fuck.

an: I’m a bit rusty with Joel, so forgive me 🩷

727 notes · View notes

virgoilluminati · 2 months

Note

Jude and Y/N going to a wedding - maybe Jude is her plus one and they're all over them because he's famous and he's just so in love with Y/N that he doesn't notice 🤭❣️

Numero uno

Inspo: Set in the World Class series, y/n's older brother Rowan decides to finally tie the knot with his girlfriend Rosemary. In turn, Y/N invites Jude as her plus one. Little did she know that inviting her boyfriend who almost won the euro's would cause such a stir.

You hated weddings. You hated the formality, the expectations, the grand declarations of love. How could anyone promise to love someone forever when life was so unpredictable, so fragile? People fell out of love, people changed, and worst of all, people died. You had seen it firsthand and the pain it caused.

The memory of Noah, your eldest brother, loomed large in your mind. He had been the glue that held their family together, his laughter and warmth filling every room he entered. But in 2020, a tragic accident had taken him from them, leaving a gaping hole that time could never fully heal. Rowan had been especially close to Noah, and you knew that today, more than ever, he would be feeling that absence acutely.

Yet, this wedding was different. Your older brother Rowan, who had been with his girlfriend Rosemary for as long as you could remember, had finally proposed. Rowan and Rosemary’s relationship had weathered many storms, and their love had only grown stronger. It was a day of joy and celebration, something you couldn’t deny them, despite your own reservations.

You stood in front of the mirror in your hotel room, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to zip up your dress. The gown was a stunning mix of red and black satin, elegant and bold, but the zipper seemed to have a mind of its own. You struggled with it for a moment, your thoughts drifting back to all the times Noah had teased you about your dramatic views on love and marriage. He would have laughed at you today, seeing you all dressed up and ready to support Rowan.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from her reverie. “Y/N, are you okay in there?” Jude’s voice, warm and concerned, came through the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called back, though your voice wavered slightly. “Just having a bit of trouble with this zipper.”

Jude entered the room, his presence instantly calming you. He looked impeccable in his tailored suit, every bit the professional athlete who had just come off an incredible performance at the 2024 Men’s Euros. But here, in this moment, he was just Jude, the man who had captured your heart.

“Let me help,” he offered, moving behind you. His fingers brushed lightly against your bare back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. He slowly pulled the zipper upwards, your eyes meeting in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky with admiration.

Your breath hitched, a blush creeping up your neck. “Thank you,” you replied softly.

As his fingers lingered on your back, you thought again of Noah. The thought of him brought a pang of sadness that you couldn’t shake.

“Y/N,” Jude’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… thinking about Noah. He should be here.”

Jude’s eyes softened with understanding. “I know. He would have loved this.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But you’re here, and that’s what matters to Rowan."

You nodded, drawing strength from Jude’s presence. “You’re right. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes filled with love. “Always.”

You turned to face him fully, your hands resting on his chest. “You look pretty good yourself,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly.

Jude grinned, his eyes darkening with desire. “Well, I have to look my best if I’m going to keep up with you.”

You shared a brief, passionate kiss, the intensity of your love wrapping around you. When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you felt a thrill of excitement. Despite the sadness, despite your doubts, this day held a promise of happiness and love.

“We should get downstairs,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Jude stole one more quick kiss. “Yeah, we should,” he agreed, but his eyes told her he was in no rush. You steal one last kiss, before Jude gestures an arm for you to take and you slowly make their way down the stairs.

You and Jude arrived at the wedding reception, a beautifully decorated hall filled with flowers and twinkling lights. The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses created a warm, celebratory atmosphere. You found a quiet corner near the entrance, waiting for the rest of your family to arrive.

You fidgeted with the strap of your bra, trying to adjust it discreetly. Jude noticed your discomfort and stepped in front of you, shielding you from view.

"Need some help?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

"Just trying to fix this strap," you whispered back, your fingers fumbling with the fabric.

Jude placed his hands gently on your shoulders, his body acting as a shield while you adjusted your strap. He kept glancing down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, noticing his intense gaze.

Jude's lips curled into a small smile. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just... you look really hot right now."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "Thanks," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's hand slid from your shoulder to your waist, pulling you closer. "Seriously, you’re making it very hard to focus on anything else," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His other hand rested briefly on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze before moving away as he heard footsteps approaching.

Your heart raced, the heat between you two intensifying. "Who says you have to?" You whispered back, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him even closer.

Jude's eyes darkened, his other hand drifting down to your hip, fingers lightly grazing the fabric of your dress. His lips found your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses along your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His touch was intoxicating, and for a moment, you were lost in your own world.

"You're driving me crazy," Jude whispered against your skin, his voice husky.

Your breath hitched as his hand trailed up your back, lingering at the nape of your neck. "Good," she managed to say, your voice shaking with desire.

Jude pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and affection. "If we weren't at your brother's wedding..."

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know."

Your moment was intense, the world around you fading as you both focused solely on each other. Jude's thumb brushed against your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Before you could get further lost in each other, the sound of approaching footsteps and voices broke their intimate bubble. You reluctantly pulled apart, your connection still palpable, and turned to face the incoming relatives.

As you and Jude were still adjusting from your intimate moment, Aunt Karen approached with her warm smile, her eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity. "Y/N, darling! It’s so good to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. Then she turned to Jude, her eyes twinkling with familiarity. "And Jude, always a pleasure. How’s everything going?"

Jude smiled, his gaze locking onto yours, a silent message passing between you two. "Good to see you, Aunt Karen," he replied smoothly, but there was a heat in his eyes that made Your breath catch.

You gave a distracted smile, your attention drifting back to the way Jude’s tuxedo fit him perfectly, accentuating the strong lines of his body. Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of their earlier closeness still tingling on your skin. You could feel the warmth of his touch lingering, and despite the ongoing conversation, all you could think about was how impossibly handsome he looked tonight.

Your Grandma appeared next, her eyes sharp yet affectionate as she took in the sight of you two. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple," she said with a teasing lilt in her voice, her gaze lingering on the space between you. "I must say, Jude, you’re looking dashing tonight."

Jude's smile widened, but his hand subtly brushed against You, sending a thrill up her spine. "Thank you. It’s great to see you," he responded, though his attention never fully left you.

Your gaze lingered on Jude, your thoughts clouded with admiration and something deeper, something that made your heart race. Your Grandma’s words barely registered as she continued, “And how was the Euro final? We were all glued to the TV, cheering for you!”

Your Uncle Michael joined the conversation, his face lit up with excitement. "We were screaming the house down! Me and the lads from the pub couldn’t believe it when you scored that winning goal. Everyone was talking about it!”

You shifted uncomfortably. The praise directed at Jude felt overwhelming, especially as your own achievements were being overshadowed. They each forgot the Women’s World Cup again, with the conversation seemingly revolved solely around Jude’s Euro final. You bit your lip, focusing on Jude’s sleek, tailored tux instead of voicing your frustration, but the intensity of your feelings were hard to ignore.

Another relative, Cousin Lisa, chimed in enthusiastically, “Honestly, Jude, you were phenomenal. The whole neighborhood was talking about it. I think they’re still raving about it!”

Jude’s eyes shifted to you, noticing your distant expression. He could sense your discomfort, the subtle tension between you growing as he decided to address it with a hint of humor. “Well, I don’t know. What do you think, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he glanced at you with a playful smirk.

Uncle Michael raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What would she know? She’s not the one who made it to the final.”

Jude chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Actually, I think Y/N has a pretty good perspective. She didn’t just make it to the final—she won the whole Women’s World Cup,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and admiration.

The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt a surge of pride and attraction. The way Jude acknowledged your achievements made your heart race, adding to the growing warmth between you. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his with a newfound intensity, the air between you tao crackling with unspoken desire.

"Well, congratulations to both of you," Aunt Karen said, her voice sincere. "You both have so much to be proud of."

You managed a smile, though your attention remained focused on Jude. His presence, the way he spoke up for you, and the genuine admiration in his eyes made your heart swell with affection, and something more—a hunger that you couldn’t quite quell.

As the relatives continued to chat and praise Jude, you found it difficult to pull your gaze away from him. His tuxedo, his confident demeanor, and his unwavering support for you in front of everyone only amplified your attraction to him. It was a reminder of why you were so drawn to him, beyond the accolades and the excitement of the evening.

Amid the chatter, you reached out and took Jude’s hand under the table, your fingers lacing with his. You squeezed it gently, your touch lingering. "Thanks for standing up for me," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Jude’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing against your hand in a slow, deliberate caress. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and reassuring, filled with a promise of more.

As you continued to mingle, the focus gradually shifted back to the others, but your thoughts were miles away, lost in the way Jude’s touch made you feel. There was a contentment in knowing that despite the overshadowing praise, you had Jude by your side.

As you and Jude settled into your seats in the church, the soft murmur of guests filled the air, blending with the gentle strains of the prelude music. Your attention was immediately drawn to Isabella, your six-year-old niece, who stood near the front with the other bridesmaids. Isabella, or Bella as the family fondly called her, looked absolutely adorable in her tiny ivory dress, a crown of flowers delicately perched atop her bouncy curls.

Your face lit up as she leaned forward, unable to contain her excitement. “Bella, you look like an absolute princess!” You gushed, your eyes twinkling with pride.

Bella smiled brightly, her cheeks flushing with happiness. She gave a little twirl, letting the layers of her dress float around her. “Thank you, Aunty Y/N! Do you really like it?” she asked, her voice full of hope.

“I love it,” You replied warmly, your smile wide and genuine. “You’re the most beautiful bridesmaid here.”

Jude sat beside you, his eyes soft as he watched the exchange. There was something incredibly heartwarming about the way you interacted with Bella—how you made the little girl feel so special and loved. He could see the natural ease with which you connected with your niece, and it stirred something deep within him.

As Bella giggled and skipped off to join the other bridesmaids, your gaze lingered on her, still glowing with affection. You turned back to Jude, your expression full of warmth. “She’s such a sweetheart, isn’t she?” You said, your voice tinged with pride.

Jude nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “She really is,” he agreed, but his mind was elsewhere.

Watching you with Bella made Jude think about your future together. He could so clearly imagine you as a mother, holding your own children with the same tenderness you showed Bella. The thought filled him with a deep sense of warmth and anticipation, a quiet longing that he kept to himself. He knew how much you cared for your niece, but he also knew that the idea of starting a family someday made you nervous. It was something you hadn’t really discussed, and Jude didn’t want to push it, especially not now.

Instead, he simply admired you, letting the image of your possible future settle in his heart. You had a way of making people feel cherished, and he knew you would be an incredible mother someday—but that was a conversation for another time.

You noticed the thoughtful look on Jude’s face and gave him a gentle nudge. “What are you thinking about?” You asked, you tone light and curious.

Jude shook off his thoughts, offering her a soft smile. “Just how good you are with Bella,” he said, keeping his voice casual.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you laughed softly. “She’s been my little Bella since the day she was born,” you replied, your voice filled with affection.

Jude squeezed your hand gently, his smile lingering as you turned your attention back to the front of the church, where the ceremony was about to begin. He didn’t need to say anything more. For now, he was content to simply be by your side, holding onto the quiet knowledge of what he hoped your future would hold—dreaming of a day when you would be ready to take that next step together.

The ceremony soon began, and You watched as your sister Eden took her place as a bridesmaid, while your brother Elliot stood proudly as Rowan’s best man. The anticipation grew as everyone waited for the bride.

As the music swelled, the doors at the end of the aisle opened, and Rosemary appeared, radiant in her wedding gown. You felt a lump form in your throat as you saw Rowan at the altar, his eyes brimming with tears as he watched his bride walk towards him. The emotion in the room was palpable, and you felt yourself getting choked up.

You couldn’t contain your excitement, smiling and gushing as you watched your brother. You had never seen Rowan so happy, and the joy in his eyes was contagious. Although you wished Noah could be there to witness this moment, your heart swelled with happiness for Rowan.

Little Isabella, the flower girl, walked ahead of Rosemary, carrying a basket of petals. Every few steps, she would delicately sprinkle the flowers along the aisle, her concentration adorable. You couldn’t help but admire Isabella’s dedication to her role, smiling each time the little girl looked up with pride.

Jude noticed the way your eyes lit up, how you seemed to be the embodiment of joy and love in that moment. He was completely besotted with you, watching you as you took in every detail of the ceremony. He knew, without a doubt, that you were the one he wanted to spend his life with.

The officiant began the ceremony, and soon it was time for Rowan and Rosemary to exchange vows. Rosemary took a deep breath and smiled at Rowan.

“Rowan, from the moment Noah introduced us, I knew you were special. I promise to always laugh at your jokes, even the terrible ones. I vow to support you in your dreams and to love you fiercely, no matter what.”

Rowan chuckled, wiping away a tear. “Rosemary, I promise to always let you have the last slice of pizza. I vow to support your dreams and to love you through every adventure, every challenge, and every joy.”

Jude felt his throat tighten, his emotions mirroring the couple’s. As Rowan and Rosemary exchanged their vows, he couldn’t help but imagine standing up there with you one day, saying those same words, making those same promises. The thought made his heart swell with a mixture of hope and longing.

The mention of Noah made your tears spill over, and you rested your head on Jude’s shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. Jude’s eyes were misty too, and he wiped away a tear discreetly, his emotions matching yours. He tightened his grip on you, feeling a surge of protectiveness and love.

As Rowan and Rosemary shared their first kiss as a married couple, the guests erupted into applause. You joined in, your heart full despite the bittersweet memories. You looked up at Jude, who smiled down at you with so much love and understanding that it made you feel incredibly grateful to have him by yiur side.

“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Jude whispered, his voice slightly choked with emotion.

You nodded, wiping your tears. “Yeah, it really was.”

You sat there for a moment, soaking in the love and joy that filled the room. Jude’s thoughts wandered to the future, to the possibility of a life with you, filled with moments like this. He couldn’t help but dream of standing at an altar, looking into your eyes, and making vows of his own.

Later that evening, the reception is in full swing. The dance floor is alive with energy, guests mingling and celebrating Rowan and Rosemary’s union. The lights are dimmed, casting a warm, intimate glow over the scene.

You find yourself in the middle of the dance floor, smiling as Jude lifts little Isabella onto his shoulders. Her giggles are infectious as she waves her arms, trying to keep up with the rhythm. You dance alongside your sister Eden, the two of you moving in sync, laughing and twirling.

Isabella’s laughter rings out, her tiny hands clapping in delight. "More, more!" she shouts, and Jude obliges, spinning around and making her squeal with joy. Your heart swells with love as you watch Jude interact with your family. He fits in so perfectly, and it makes you think about what the future might hold for both of you.

You glance around the room, taking in the sight of your loved ones celebrating together. Rowan and Rosemary are glowing with happiness, sharing a private moment at their table. Your parents are dancing nearby, looking as in love as ever. The warmth and joy of the occasion fill you with a sense of peace. God, Noah would've loved this.

The DJ’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Can all couples please make their way to the floor for a slow dance?”

Isabella is gently lifted off Jude’s shoulders and handed over to Eden, who continues to twirl and dance with her. Jude turns to you, extending his hand with a playful bow. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with affection.

You giggle and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the center of the floor. The music slows, and the soft, romantic melody fills the room. Jude’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck, and together you sway gently to the rhythm.

As you move together, everything else seems to fade away. The chatter of the guests, the clinking of glasses, and even the music itself become a distant hum. It’s as if time has stopped, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

You look up at Jude, taking in his appearance. He’s wearing a tailored black tuxedo that fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build. His dark hair is styled neatly, and his deep brown eyes are filled with love and adoration as he gazes down at you. The way the dim light catches his features makes him look even more handsome, if that’s possible.

Jude’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes locking onto yours with a gaze that speaks volumes. His hands move gently up and down your back, sending shivers down your spine. You feel so safe, so cherished in his embrace.

“You know,” Jude murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I could get used to this. Dancing with you, being with you. Forever.”

Your heart flutters at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You smile up at him, your eyes misty with emotion. “Me too,” you reply softly. “Me too.”

You lose yourself in his eyes, feeling the world around you blur into insignificance. His touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment. The way he looks at you makes you feel like the only person in the room, and you know without a doubt that this is where you’re meant to be.

The music envelops you both, the melody weaving a cocoon of intimacy around you. You rest your head on Jude’s shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of being held by him. His scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely him, fills your senses, making you feel even closer to him.

You’re wearing a stunning dress that’s a mix of red and black, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. The intricate lace details add an air of elegance, while the deep red color highlights your features, making your eyes sparkle. Your hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down your back, and your makeup is done to perfection, highlighting your natural beauty.

As the song progresses, you feel Jude’s hand slip down to rest on the small of your back, his fingers tracing light patterns that send a thrill through you. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong, and it matches the rhythm of your own.

You tilt your head up slightly, your lips brushing against his ear. “I love you" you whisper, the words coming straight from your heart.

Jude tightens his hold on you, his lips grazing your temple. “Me too, your my numero uno.” he replies, his voice filled with emotion.

The world around you ceases to exist as you sway together, completely lost in each other. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of peace and happiness you’ve never known before. Being with Jude feels like home.

As the song comes to an end, Jude leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It’s a promise, a silent vow of the future you both dream of. When you pull apart, the room comes back into focus, but the magic of the moment lingers.

You glance over to see Rowan and Rosemary sharing a similar moment, their love shining brightly. Your parents are still dancing, your mom resting her head on your dad’s shoulder with a contented smile. Even little Isabella is now nestled in Eden’s arms, looking sleepy but happy.

You feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and support surrounding you. And as you look back at Jude, you see the same emotion mirrored in his eyes. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.

“Ready for another dance?” he asks, his smile soft and inviting.

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Always,” you say, your voice filled with love.

The next song begins, and you lose yourself in Jude’s embrace once more. As you move together, you notice Jude’s expression shifts slightly, a familiar look of deep contemplation crossing his face.

“What is it?” you ask softly, curiosity piqued.

Jude looks slightly startled. “What do you mean?”

“You did that face earlier,” you insist. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

Jude hesitates, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Jude, tell me!” you press, your eyes searching his.

He sighs softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s just... when you were with Bella earlier, I couldn’t help but imagine what you’d be like with our kids. And when you were looking at Rosemary during the ceremony, all I could think about was how beautiful you’ll be when we get married.”

You’re taken aback by his honesty, your heart skipping a beat. “Jude...”

He quickly continues, sensing your apprehension. “I know, not now. But I also know that I want it with you. Whenever that is.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love there. It’s a lot to take in, but there’s a comforting certainty in his words. He isn’t pushing, just sharing his dreams, dreams that now feel a little less frightening and a lot more wonderful.

“I... I want that too,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly. “Someday.”

Jude smiles, a look of pure adoration on his face. “Then someday it is,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you again, sealing the promise with a tender touch.

As the music plays on and you continue to dance, the future seems a little clearer, a little brighter. And with Jude by your side, you know that whatever comes, you’ll face it together.

381 notes · View notes

iluvapplesxh · 2 months

Note

Hi I was wondering if you if you could Billie is angry at us and yells and ignores us and we are nervous and scared of if she doesn’t want to be with us anymore I love your angst ones with Billie because in the end there are so sweet and I feel like a lot of people and myself can relate to wanting someone to understand and love us

☞☞☞☞Love Is Pain☜☜☜☜

summary: Words, which were not meant to be said, thrown at each other angrily. Words which cut deep and made you doubt close to everything. But love was a pain you were ready to bare.

warnings: panic attack, angst, fight, mentions of past trauma (kinda), little fluff at the end. !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

A/N: Hii, anon! it's my first request, so pls be kind. I am not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but I did what I could!

You sat on your couch in the shared apartment you and your girlfriend of 6 months had. Said apartment was silent, you could hear a pin drop if it were to be dropped. Earlier that night, you and Billie had been at a small friendly gathering at a mutual friend’s house, and everything was going great. You and Billie were by one another’s side most of the time, making conversations and such. Well that was until that loving mutual friend sat down next to the two of you on the couch and started talking to Billie about something that happened when you weren’t there.

It would have been fine, you were a busy person so of course there would be some times and memories of Billie’s that you are not part of, but the way Billie unwrapped her arm from around your waist and turned her whole body towards the other girl, her eyes shining with interest as the other girl told the story, the way your friend placed her hand on your girlfriend’s arm as she spoke, shifting closer and closer until their legs were pressed together, Billie’s arm now resting on the back of the couch behind your friend.

Maybe you were overreacting, or maybe you were rightfully upset, but nonetheless, you told your girlfriend you weren’t feeling well in hopes to just escape and go back home together. But no. She had barely turned her attention to you and waved you off with not even as much as a ‘See ya’.

It made your heart ache and your stomach drop. But you didn’t let it show as you left the house, deciding to leave Billie’s car for her and instead took an uber home.

It has been hours. And you had seen no sign of a text or call, or her in general. True, you should have been at least a little bit worried but you just couldn’t get that careless response out of your head. It was like you were just like every other person she meets everyday.

And it stung.

Like a bitch.

So, no surprise, when you finally heard the front door open, heavy footsteps approaching the living room through the hallway, you stood up with an angry expression, watching as your girlfriend walked into the living room.

“I didn’t know you left”

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest at her words. “I told you, but you seemed all too interested in what Amanda had to say…”

Billie’s eyebrows furrowed and her hand dropped her cap down on the dresser next to her. “What? What are you implying, baby?” She asked, disbelief clear in her voice.

You shook your head, pressing your lips together before a dry chuckle escaped your lips. “Come on, now you’re gonna pretend you didn’t ignore me, or better said, waved me off, when I asked if we could leave?”

Billie’s jaw clenched as she sighed. “Fine, okay. I’m sorry. Happy?” She held out her arms as she approached you, standing face-to-face with you in front of the dark gray L-shaped couch.

A short breath came out of your mouth as you scoffed once more, your tongue swiping across your front teeth. “No. You-You treated me like I was just one of the Billion people on earth”

Billie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you?”

Your mouth hung open at her response, a sharp pain shooting through your chest when she said that. You blinked multiple times, your throat tightening up before you cleared it. “What..?” The words were barely above a whisper as your shoulders slumped.

Billie groans and scoffs. “I don’t have the energy for this, man. Why do you have to be so sensitive?” It seems as though Billie is not aware of what she’s saying. Or well, maybe she was. But you didn’t want to think that. No. That would hurt more. To know she’d knowingly say those words to you.

“Billie, I’m trying to-”

Your words were cut off by another roll of Billie’s eyes and her looking away. “No. You are being such a baby about this. I was just interested in what Amanda had to say”

You swallowed hard and took in a deep breath. “I…that would have been fine if you didn’t ignore me.” You couldn’t help but feel a pang of shame shoot through you. She’s right. You were being dramatic.

“Oh my God!” Her voice was loud and it made you flinch a little as she threw her hands up. “Why are you being like this? I already told you I was sorry!”

You bit your lip, looking down for a moment, tears welling in your eyes before you blinked them back and shook your head. “I’m just saying, that you shouldn’t have-..”

“And I don’t care! I’m tired as shit!” She exclaimed and you took a step back. “I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with your bullshit right now!” Her voice was harsh, ringing loudly in your ears and through the apartment. She ran a hand through her dark hair and let out a deep breath.

“Billie…-”

She shook her head and pushed past you, your shoulders bumping harshly as she walked away. “Come to me when you’re less of a whiny baby!” She called out before shutting your bedroom door behind her, leaving you standing in your living room, defeated and belittled.

You didn’t go to bed that night. Just laid on the couch, knees up to your chest as the fight ran through your head over and over again. It hurt. A lot. But of all the questions running around your head, the biggest one of them all was ‘why?’.

Billie has never been mean to you. Ever. True, the two of you had minor fights before but in the end one of the two of you always apologized. This didn’t feel like that. It felt big. Heavy. Like there will be no apology. No hug in the morning with an ‘I’m so sorry, baby’ whispered into your ear. No sweet nothings.

It was only around 3Am when the tears had finally stopped flowing, your breathing calmed. But your thoughts didn’t. And neither did the pain in your chest fade. Or the tight knot in your stomach loosen. You wondered if she had fallen asleep, or if she had been in the same state as you. Restless. Head spinning with loud thoughts. Afraid.

Early in the morning, your arms had gone numb being tucked under your chest while lying down. So, you decided to get up, walk around the apartment until you got bored of it and just sat down by the kitchen table. Your head was in your hands, hair clutched between your fingers while your teeth bit the inside of your cheek.

This fight brought back things you thought you had buried deep. Into the back of your mind where they wouldn’t resurface again. The thoughts which were now once again coming back, ones you thought you’d never have to hear again. It was like you were drowning, and you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with the feeling. No. But it had been years since you felt it, and it came back 10x stronger. Your hearing was muffled, your heart beating in your ears loudly and your breathing grew hurried, taking breath after breath at a fast pace as you felt like your lungs were being squeezed tightly, like you were being choked by something.

And although in the past you knew how to do this, to deal with it, you never could do it alone, so there was always someone helping, assuring you. Not this time. No, you were alone and the worst part was, you deserved it. Well, no. Not exactly, but everything in your head was telling you so, and who were you to deny? To think; ‘No, you don’t. And you’re not alone, you have Billie’. But did you…?

It felt like you were losing your grip on reality. Everything was a blur as time ticked by with you sitting on the wooden chair by the kitchen table, chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut. Your breath was taken away from you, the air not going in or coming out of your lungs and you felt light-headed. But the sweet escape didn’t come. You didn’t fall down to the floor, unconscious. You stayed upright, fighting an inner battle with yourself, and you were very much losing.

You could hear Billie’s harsh and loud voice echoing in the back of your head with every attempt to breathe. And soon those salty tears were falling down on your face again, your fingers grasping your hair into your fists. Your head hurt, but you couldn’t tell if it was from you pulling your own hair or the lack of air, or the crying.

When Billie woke up from her restless slumber, her chest hurt. Like something wasn’t right. And something in fact wasn’t. Because when she opened her eyes, her arms moved to wrap around your body, but there was nothing, no one. She sat up abruptly and looked around for a moment before the memories came flooding back and she cursed, throwing the blanket off of her body and standing so fast her head spun.

She had no explanation. No excuse for her behavior last night and it pained her.

She only wasted a couple of moments before rushing towards the closed bedroom door, ripping it open and stepping out. Her expression was one of worry and regret. She frantically looked around for you, everywhere with her breathing increasing in speed with every empty room.

Finally, when she found you, slumped against the kitchen table, your breathing fast and ragged, her worry didn’t ease. It was only the guilt that increased as she approached you.

You didn’t seem aware of her presence at all as she paused by your side, her hand in the air, ready to place a comforting hand on your back but she hesitated. She was mean. To you. And she couldn’t take it back.

It was only when a sob ripped through your chest that she placed her hand on your back, her finger bunching the fabric of your shirt gently as she leaned down, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Baby?”

Your head shot up when an outside voice rang through your head. Red, tear-filled eyes looking up into Billie’s. You saw her hold back from looking away. The obvious pain and conflict in your eyes and expression hurting her. She couldn’t even imagine what was going on inside your head.

When you tried to speak, only a cry and a short-lived breath came out. Billie immediately stood, shaking her head. “Sh, sh, sh, baby. It’s okay. Don’t speak.” Her hand left your back and moved to cup your face, wiping away the tears. “Breathe with me. Come on. I know you can” Her voice was gentle as she spoke. She took a deep, slow breath in and you tired following but failed, more tears falling down at your failure.

Billie sighed, feeling her own tears spilling before she blinked and wiped them with her free hand. She nodded. “Okay. It’s alright. One more time, yeah?” You nodded shortly at her words. “Mhm, okay, In..” She took a deep breath in and you followed suit, inhaling shakily. “And out” She exhaled slowly and you did the same. Her other hand came up to wipe away the strands of hair stuck to your sweat littered forehead as she repeated with you a couple more times.

“Yes, that’s it. You’re doing amazing, pretty girl” She murmurs, leaning down to press her lips on the top of your head. “Breathe” Her hand strokes your hair gently. It’s shaking the slightest bit, her heart aching horribly at the sight in front of her.

When your breathing finally calms, the thoughts stop and the world doesn’t spin anymore. You’re no longer drowning.

Billie feels you calm down and she pulls back, swallowing hard. Her icy blue eyes studying your face for a moment. There was a long moment of silence between the two of you before Billie reluctantly took a step back. Guilt eating away at her, like her heart got caught in a bear-trap.

She clenches her jaw, steadying herself before speaking. “I’m…I’m sorry” You stare at her, your feelings a mess as you took in her words. “Look-...I have,” She shook her head, her lips pressing together, forming a thin line. “I have no excuse…for how I-...”

You stand on shaky legs and take an unsure step towards her. “Wait. Can-...Can I talk first?” Your voice was small and hoarse as you spoke. Billie nodded her head, her words dying in her throat. “What you said…it hurt” You took a deep breath. “And how you acted hurt more.” Your words each felt like a push on the bear-trap around her heart. “And-...I was scared.” Your voice broke and you shut your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t think you…” You paused, gaze falling to the ground as your nails dug into your palms. “I didn’t know if you’d stay” It was a whisper, barely audible but Billie heard. And her tears fell as she shook her head.

She took a step forward, too. “No, no. Don’t say that” Her face crumbled and she cupped your cheeks once more, swallowing down her sobs. “This was all on me. I shouldn’t have said those things” When your mouth opened to speak, she shushed you again. “And I am so fucking sorry” She dropped her hands and looked away. “God, love, I don’t think I was even thinking…”

It was your turn to shake your head, reaching for her warm hands, holding them in yours. You sighed. “I…I know, baby.” You whispered softly, your hands giving hers a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, too. Because it is not all your fault, okay?”

Billie nodded her head and let go of your hands, reaching behind you and putting them on the small of you back as she pulled you into her. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders. “I made you have a panic attack” She whispered and you paused before hugging her tighter.

“It’s not-..”

“Yes.” She nods against your shoulder. “It is. Just-...” One of her hands came up to rest on the back of your head. “Talk to me. Okay? Don’t let me treat you like that ever again, baby.”

You sighed and nodded, closing your eyes. “You won’t”

The two of you stayed there a while. Just in each other’s arms. You both knew this was not going to be your last fight. But, looking at it differently, maybe that’s a good thing.

A/N: ughh, the ending is shit. sorry. I kinda made this in a little rush but hope its satisfactory. Btw! I have never had a panic attack before! Or at least I think. But I tried my best to write it!

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #request #reqs open

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ceesimz · 5 months

Text

The Mountain Is You

Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'

Can confirm this part is much lighter than the first! I enjoyed writing this, I hope you like it :)

Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.

Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.

Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.

If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.

For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.

Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.

"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.

"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."

"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."

"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."

"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."

"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."

"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.

The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.

Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.

You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.

Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!

What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?

Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.

So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.

Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.

Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?

You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.

A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.

"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"

For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.

"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."

"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."

"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."

"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."

And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.

The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.

Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.

When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.

However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.

You:

Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x

Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.

Alexia:

Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x

Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.

And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.

Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.

Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.

When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.

Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.

Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.

Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.

You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.

Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.

Until she did arrive.

The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.

She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.

Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.

The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.

"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.

"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."

"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."

"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."

You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.

"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."

"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.

"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.

"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."

You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?

"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."

She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.

"How are you?"

"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.

"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."

"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.

"I do, I swear."

At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.

She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.

The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.

"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.

"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.

"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.

"Any of it. All of it."

"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"

"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.

"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."

Sorry, what was that?

"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.

"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."

"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"

"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."

"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"

"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."

"Are you okay?" You blurt out.

At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.

"What do you mean?"

Exactly what you guessed.

"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.

"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.

"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."

She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.

"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."

"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.

"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."

"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.

"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"

"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.

Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.

"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.

"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"

Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.

"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"

"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.

"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."

You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.

"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.

"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.

"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.

"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.

"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"

"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."

"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."

"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.

"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?

"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.

Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.

"What's wro-"

"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.

"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"

"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"

"Oh, perdóname, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.

"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"

And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.

"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."

There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.

It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.

The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.

"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.

"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.

"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."

"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."

"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"

"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."

"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."

"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."

"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.

"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.

"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."

You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.

"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."

"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."

"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."

She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.

"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."

You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.

Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.

Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.

"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.

"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.

"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."

You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?

However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.

"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.

"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.

"Liked the smell, did you?"

"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.

You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.

A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.

"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.

"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."

Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.

"No, I like that you still have it."

You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.

"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.

"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"

"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.

"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."

"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.

"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."

With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.

"I think it's only a matter of time."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso #Spotify

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